I kept his name in my wallet
This is a poem, or lyrics, or whatever, by myself. First time I've ever posted something like this.
Love it? Hate? Rather be gnawing on cement? Lemmie hear it!
I wish I could love you
in a different way,
but never not at all.
Picasso couldn’t have painted
a more confusing situation.
Believe me, he tried. You laughed, I cried.
Pace, pace, pace. Tap, tap, tap.
I want to throw something, but I don’t.
Not that I can’t, I just won’t.
Screaming sounds good,
and if I thought it might work, I would.
The empty space between my ears
chooses to ignore the sound of one too many
when you say “I love you, dear.”
I kept his name in my wallet,
‘cause I didn’t want it in my head.