Under the influence- Of nothing special.
It's a heavy day.
The kind of day where you walk through
the dredge of old coffee grounds.
Seeking some sort of enlightenment.
The kind of day where-
You try desperately to escape
From the jealousy and the pain.
Where you’re in a seemingly drug-induced,
Cloud, but there’s no way to come down;
From that which you didn’t consume.
And maybe if you had-
It would have helped, and you wouldn’t care.
The kind of day where you wish you had friends- girl, friends.,
To talk to and spend time with through,
Dreary ‘Smallville Nights.’
When solitude is sleep or death.
It’s a heavy day-
A lonely day… and undeniable day.
The kind of day full of anger,
And giving up on things.
And wishing that there was someone,
When perhaps there is not.
Yet- somehow there will be perseverence,
Perhaps it's the love that does it.
I will go and I will sleep,
And I will forget that he's not there,
Forget that I have no one to talk to.
That she's gone.
Love.
Clair.