miserable and cold
and I know what I need but
even when I fight for it I
miss out, so I've got to run
some and then I'm always
too tired to breathe.
While I should be
blissfully dreaming
(of you)
I struggle with my
unfinished business
and I wish I could just let
it all go like you do.
As the sun emerges minute
by deafening minute I
turn my cracked face towards it like
a sunflower after winter,
feeble and dry.
We all spill out of there
and I'm optimistic as long as
I forget we begin again tomorrow.