Tuesday, January 6, 2009

2 socks

At night I don't feel younger
My bodies getting colder
I have a pile of socks next to my bed
2 socks for every day I have lived
A few days in the past
And a pile of socks next to my bookshelf
Number my future days in 2's

I lay down in the grass
I let them pretend
That someone is more insane

I draw pictures of fake things
Things that don't happen
I feel that they lie to you, not me
I'm just telling the truth

I cry in cars
I breathe and look at trees
and I think

I battle with my own mind
I get panic attacks when I read Descartes
Simply because Descartes is dead

I'm nervous to leave again
I'll never wake up to you again

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