they ask me why i write so black
why i can't turn around, why i look back.
how can they understand what you were to me
why can't i get over what use to be?
i changed somewhere
and i don't mean my hair
but my very existence, from what i can't bear
for some moments had meaning...i thought for us
and your love, for a time was sustenance.
everyday i wake to find i'm not over this yet
and wonder how bad, how much worse it can get
and then you're there, and i know at once
i'm ready to drink by the time it's lunch.
if i could take myself, turned inside out
and strip whatever makes me hard, just to see
i think about it...would i really...given
if i could erase, in my head, your voice...
i think not...
but what the hell do i know!