I feel tragic
And alone.
I'm making empty
Conversation with
Poeple I don't like.
(you, definitely)
The dark sky hangs
Over me,
Ominously.
Like a bad mood,
Or your cigarette smoke
(that would worm into our lungs
And choke me from the inside)
And cheap wine
(That lingered on our breath,
Like a bad memory that we would still remember
One day when we woke up)
That never foreshadowed
A good future.
Beacuse,
I can run
(from you.)
And run circles
(from us.)
(since that's all I ever seem to do)
(from myself)
Around what you were
And I will be
Trying to delay the inevitable.
But you will always be me,
And I will always be you
My... Friend.
