The Pointless Book

Unfinished Poem #51

I like too many people
'Cause what if none of them like me back?

I set myself up and
Let myself down one too many times
One too many
One too many times

If I could get my thoughts right
Then maybe I'd talk better to you
I always think that
Yet again, the worst has come for me
The worst has come for me

I could send these sights I see to
Summertime and wash it all away

Quivering and shaking as I
Melt into the floorboards as you speak
My tongue is pressed against the roof of my mouth as hard as I can

I can't feel the muscles in my skin, no touching, no feeling
Got a couple days of building up before I gotta run it off on

I could send these sights I see to
I'll lift you up
From your eternal life of slumber
I can be your lover