War
I shuffle through my loneliness like ruble after a war...
I arrange my memories like pictures on the dirty floor...
I wonder what it would be like to live another life...
Could things ever be different as I hold this shaking knife?
I swim through my sorrow, spitting out regret...
I'm at the bottom of the pool, even though I'm not wet...
Your shadow is haunting me a little less every day...
I notice my psyche is made of papier-mache...
A sliver of sunlight smiles at me from under my door...
Maybe I'll see you again... Maybe after the war...
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