Sold My Soul Cause I've That Low

i can't believe i still talk about you aloud
like you're still around
the ultimate indicator that i'm completely crazy
my conversations with you are always my favorite
ahh what a world it would be if you were back here with me

now i reside by windows, and i esteem myself low
along with my ambiance
along with my foe

i see a squirrel perched on a dead branch
he's in that early morning promising shade
and i think - this must be more than happenstance
him with his weight upon the dead
where my faith lies, atop what i dread

i trace the letters out with my fingers,
the etchings in the snow meant, i don't know.
stress wasn't secondary, it was tertiary and we didn't care
that same distinct disease still haunts me daily
and there's no remedy

The Shards They Cut

people are everywhere, and somehow within the population we find ourselves almost attributed to some. like lines in a web, significant of all the relationships, that's the word. they're like lines. some run parallel and they're next to you but you don't ever intersect. then there's the ones that do - intersect. who knows for how long, but they do. and it's very different, parallel and perpendicular. the ones that touch must eventually part, they're going towards opposite destinies. the ones that walk along will always be there, but never There.

who's to say which is better? it all comes out looking like shit anyway. whole pieces of your life headed the other way, and you're left looking down at your hands wondering how you'd be better off. i try and blank myself of the whereabouts of the pieces left. corpses from them all rot in the spaces of my mind.

sometimes i can't find relief. i'm looking for a place where reminders don't exist, much less seen fathomable. it's away from here, but it's around. mighty things have to be far. change is distance, and the further the better.