A short December,
Blissfully upon my vacant mind,
I get older, do less drugs,
Get dumber.
Who knew?
Oh, you, sitting there,
I can't see you,
But I know you are somewhere,
Someone. Anyone.
My desperation to change,
to find a reason to,
belong, to fawn.
I can almost picture your smile,
Just as the thought almost puts air,
In my decrepit lungs,
I can almost hear your whisper,
Oh my deaf ears nearly bare,
Your inner thoughts,
Finally someone who will share.
You are just around the corner,
Sitting in that chair,
Sitting, sipping that coffee,
Living a life that suits mine,
I know it, cause it is the only thread,
of my make believe reality,
that feels real,
And all I need to do is bind,
my absent heart to your
make-believe existence.
Surely though if only I was not so scared,
Of feeling something, anything, again.
I just bury my head, hide in my pitiful work,
and, do not lie, do not escape.
Wallow. Wallow.
Always swallowing my fear.
I can see you sitting there,
And all I have to do is sit here,
And smile.
And relax.
And we don't have to ****.
And you won't run.
And you'll be happy I'm around.
And you'll make me frown,
if just to determine to make me,
Smile my smile that only,
You can elicit for a while.
Love, Love, I need only sit there,
Next to you,
But.
How do I arrive...
A by your side,
A place to be found,
Somewhere in Wonderland.
