Debating the Girl

I'm talking to myself again. she's someone else. caterpillar in my cocoon. wings about to sprout.

so many people i've been. she's only one, but i miss her the most. especially when it's time to be strong again.

She was, but I'm not.

Talking to myself as if I'm listening. There's lightning, but no thunder. Far away storms echoing in distant lives. Making strangers friends. Proving time is my greatest vice.

Talking to myself. In numbers. How little. How much. In rhymes. Closer to the truth than I want to be tonight.

Thinking she knows me. And I her. But these words between us only widen the gap.

It's like she's leaving me, but won't let me go. Like she's the splint for what is broken, but I prefer the crutch.

Talking to myself. She wants to heal me. She's so naive. There's no nice way to tell her we'll never be each other again.

She wants to heal us, but I like us better when we're sick.