Better

May 26, 2009
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I thought I was better.
The sun burns the ground next to me.
I want the clouds back.
I want shade
on the spot next to me
where I am sure
You're supposed to be.
I pick at the gravel
wanting it to fall apart
like I always seem to.
I don't want empty spots next to me.
You wouldn't sit down anyway.
And if you did,
it would be pointless.
For I wouldn't speak.
You wouldn't answer if I did.
Where has the point gone?
When did I lose my meaning?
I wanted to see you, and what happens?
I want more.
You know you're in too deep
when you start wanting more.
I thought I had stopped wanting.
I'm a child.
It's who you think I am,
It's who I'll be.
For you.
As I said before,
I thought I was better.





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