Less - More

I find myself sitting on a shabby old bed, in a room where everything seems to be dead. I stare at the ceiling like it wouldn't be there, I find myself thinking of being prepared. I have to be ready when autumn has come, I should be ok when you have gone. Gone, disappeared suddenly into mist, gone, forever. Does it have to be this? I sometimes still try to resist you, I hope you feel the same way too. Whatever way I try to forget you, the more I fall in love with you.