How do you know, how will you ever know?
One couldn't be sure by the words spoken, because what if they know just exactly what you want to hear?
The actions done, well hell, can just as well be undone by the succeeding.
Mind is spinning with thoughts and images and feelings.
Feelings that have developed out of where?
If the actions and the words are nothing, how could something be created from thus?
It's me, right?
I'm the one making them into something when simply they truly are nothing.
Nothing is all.
Nothing is well.
How are you, what are you doing?
Nothing well that's just nothing
you see because nothing is good?
Good?
What is good?
Nerves, one could tell that I've got them built up and bundled like DNA.
Maybe it's in my DNA maybe i'm not "fit" for this.
Well I am quite fit indeed, but seeming to attract some that are maybe not built the same.
Men are literal, and I am as well so how is it that there can be room for such misunderstanding?
I love you?
Me or the idea of you and me naked in between your sheets?
I am honest.
I am truthful.
I am respectable.
As were you that Friday night, so why is it that I feel something has changed?
Changed well fuck I wouldn't know?
Numb to this numb to it all.
I'll wait.
I'm good enough.
Damn it.
There is no league to which I do not fall.
Put me in a box; I will stay there.
I will not uproot the dignity I have been grown to have within myself.
I will not fall.
But hell, i'll fall for you.
