A 3mm wide hole in the universe
Sighing, Lonesome, and Crying alone. I look for patterns in wood grain - the gap in the curtain tells me I’m lonely… tells me I’m wasting time, tells me my friends barely put up with me, tells me I’ve got nothing left to give. The Gap in the curtain knows what I think and whispers it back to me. - I’m guessing by that look on your face that I’ve just lost the game that I designed for myself. (I knew I was never good at team sports but I was really trying my best this time.)
Now I go to bakeries by myself and think to myself, “Man, you’d love these Viennoserie.” - We were close once and now it hurts seeing you with friends I’ll never know - The foxes got louder since you moved. Well maybe they didn’t but I wrote your new address in the back of my book and then, admittedly, forgot about it and lent it to a friend.
“The prose was weak but I guess I turned the page,” - his review. I’ve been seeing someone, trying to at least. She said
“You can leave on your clothes, but take off your shoes. If we lie very still it won’t feel like anything.” I kept my eyes glued to the cracks in the blinds. What were they telling her?
I remember you picking pebbles up off the road and throwing them in the sea; you said “All things must return,” I nodded my head as if to agree. I keep telling my friends sad stories from my past as if they were just funny anecdotes, but they’re starting to really sting.
If you throw a dog a bone, he’ll be happy for a minute; teach a dog to hunt and he’ll have as many bones as he wants.
Outside, there’s people talking and I imagine they’re smiling, walking arm in arm. I imagine they secretly hate each other - The Gap agrees with me. I like sunlight on my face and I know that there’s a tomorrow.
Sighing, Lonesome, and Crying alone. I look for patterns in wood grain - the gap in the curtain tells me I’m lonely… tells me I’m wasting time, tells me my friends barely put up with me, tells me I’ve got nothing left to give. The Gap in the curtain knows what I think and whispers it back to me. - I’m guessing by that look on your face that I’ve just lost the game that I designed for myself. (I knew I was never good at team sports but I was really trying my best this time.)
Now I go to bakeries by myself and think to myself, “Man, you’d love these Viennoserie.” - We were close once and now it hurts seeing you with friends I’ll never know - The foxes got louder since you moved. Well maybe they didn’t but I wrote your new address in the back of my book and then, admittedly, forgot about it and lent it to a friend.
“The prose was weak but I guess I turned the page,” - his review. I’ve been seeing someone, trying to at least. She said
“You can leave on your clothes, but take off your shoes. If we lie very still it won’t feel like anything.” I kept my eyes glued to the cracks in the blinds. What were they telling her?
I remember you picking pebbles up off the road and throwing them in the sea; you said “All things must return,” I nodded my head as if to agree. I keep telling my friends sad stories from my past as if they were just funny anecdotes, but they’re starting to really sting.
If you throw a dog a bone, he’ll be happy for a minute; teach a dog to hunt and he’ll have as many bones as he wants.
Outside, there’s people talking and I imagine they’re smiling, walking arm in arm. I imagine they secretly hate each other - The Gap agrees with me. I like sunlight on my face and I know that there’s a tomorrow.