emotional, deep, to the heart near,
but what, if you will, can he say?
the opportunity has not been on a display,
and as he cannot reach past the Plexiglas,
he gives up, no more will he this idea harass.
i'm sorry, said he, say i, i say as him,
all around the events are dim,
i wont comfort you, same as you dont have the energy to read this,
fine, i'm a packaged word, would you notice only if i had a slashed wrist,
and sadly, she does, and sadly he cant,
cant tell her,
even a simple word,
crazy, [bipolar], just a nerd,
no he wont be the next Columbine,
i just have some words in mind,
for her to hear.
stop, he just thought,
and be it not,
i dont have anything to say,
maybe all i need,
is a look in her eye,
sing her a lullaby,
she wont respond,
her eyes will be like a cat,
1 second, and they look away, they're gone,
and neither will she sleep to the song,
and he'll sadly be the one to know,
that his attempts are selfish,
that he has a choice between optimism and pessimism,
when neither exist, but between the two exists a schism.
Kristina, you were right,
just words to the eyes sight,
go to sleep, remember at night,
your true dreams,
of sour cream,
paprika.
He just has a few [words] to say to her,
behind a facade of cultural vertigo.
and it is not simple, it is simple.
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