you snatch at me like you just realized something you lost
voice breaking and hurt showing
as I'm passing by like a ghost you feared
and just that one shattered glance that caught your pupils like
two stones uncovered to harsh sun
while I'm languid and floating by on carefully oiled skis
the blue in your disposition is starting to fade
darken into the purple of midnight
this is over. yes. no. halfway. maybe.
it's those maybes that kill thousands of people every night
its those maybes that I just won't deal with.
it's those maybes that are your monsters now.