It could be a bad thing when
A razor blade can elicit
Thought process. And, sometimes, the
Happiest moments in life can
Sculpt the saddest memories.
The tears come in convuslions when
I can hear them playing you
On one more of those overused,
Static radio stations.
Dead inside. Haven't felt this way
In such a long while that
It could have almost seemed foreign.
I feigned apathy in your
Face, the tears come in convulsions.
Eat dinner by candle light:
Milkshakes, chicken and Steak Burgers,
Love letters in the A.M.
And all our smiles juxtaposed
With this small household dagger.
Cut straight onto California
Avenue, where I love to
Be touched and no one wanted to
Touch me. It's literature,
Made perfect by living real life.
With you is to happiness
As miss you is to misery.
The tears come in convulsions.