You were right about me, it hit me today.
Through the city I traipsed, through its lonely greys.
At once it all hit me, I have “no real connection”.

I held no promise ring and with my hand on your hips
And you on my lips I still didn't feel a thing.
With the smoke in the air and the cutting red,
I could be sat in hell here right on your bed.
We all become what we hate, lets call this my fate?
I can't find myself of late.
So it seems that the empty space has sucked the life force out of me.
We are all such bitter souls, with no concern for repercussions.
You don't say a lot but you say too much.
Don't put your hand out you wont feel my touch.
I deliberate as we talk, calibrate too much.
Your eyes are crash victims, tonight I'm their crutch.
Then like a coffee nap, back to the room
I snap with caffeine shakes. Can I stay? I can't.
As I pace out the door, I let out a sigh.
I get closer each time.

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