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.