Monday, May 12, 2014

Wherever I was supposed to be.


I can't think; I can't think with you;
I can't keep trying to get back to you.

At twenty I tried to die 
and get back, back, back to you.

How has my body grown, but not my heart?
Why is time still my enemy?

It gives me enough to stay alive.
a nibble here; a nibble there,
but never enough.

No, it's never enough.