sad

[craseiachic7]

So the song goes
I’ve got 100 years
10 fingers
10 toes
But still, only 100 years
And after that
Who the hell knows

I’m just a clam shell discarded
Tableside
White cotton something
At your bedside
Covering up necessary nakedness
I feel unsafe
I feel I was left here
To tell another story of what might have been

I figure if I’ve got 100 years
(Only guaranteed for a split second)
Uncertainty constantly one step ahead
Then I can’t wait until my split second is up
And I can’t wait to be certain.

Short silences
Heavy rain
100 years
Of quiet strain.