My rent
Is stupidly cheap but
I still can't eat
I only manage to drink
Each night
I swear it's the last night
I'm sick until noon
When my hands shake and shake
It's a goddamn shame
We don't talk about anymore
When your eyes are on me
I stumble around stupidly
I spend
Too much of my time
Thinking in past tense
Laying in bed
How does it feel to know that,
no matter how tall your seeds have grown, and,
no matter what you've etched in
stone, that some day, you will be forgotten