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this heaviness upon my eyelids and heat lids
is you, or the thought of you or the memory of you
i am a useless girl
i can only write love poetry you wouldn't understand
because my words are lies
beautiful words are untruths and mine are lies

this heaviness is sleep hammering down upon my mind
who is thinking of you
and I'll never be the talkative, popular girl
or the quiet, sarcastic diva
i'm somewhere in the gray not quite loud enough but not quite soft
back to the pin pricks in my heart
pulsing

you
want
to
forget
me