Sad crumpled up lies

green hollow eyes

make up running in streams of denial

a bright pink puddle of unhappiness at my feet.

Here I am

laugh as I go,

I've been here before, I've been here before.

The nostalgia of grief and I

sit in a long embrace out on the porch,

holding each other tightly,

and the sun never sets where I live.

The loneliness of a still frame

hangs in the air,

and the dampness of the house

merges with the dampness of my soul.

Don't ask me what I don't know.

Don't ask me what I don't know.