i keep saying
i need to be intimate but
all i do is tell you
how i'm going mad
in a city of little importance
nothing of substance happened today
signs go by
and a certain voice slowly cuts my head off at the neck
we talk about our childhoods
which are encased in television
but i find something in you
better than all of this
i want to keep and give
everything
collect the bits of you
i find laying around
in the filthy streets and hazy atmosphere