hit the street
what happens when i half don’t want you anymore
when i wake up with your things strewn across the floor
and my first response is to throw them out
until i see you standing by the door
we stay together more out of habit than taste
since we cobbled together this thing in haste
inertia’s the strongest force we have now
i hope you speak first so i can save face
i stay awake at night with your body next to mine
half repulsed and half knowing and almost totally resigned
to failing to say or speak my mind
i worry and think and hope that you’ll be fine
i’m struck between love and desire
i want new passions, soaring higher
but you’re some kind of cancer that i admire
sometimes a change of scene is required
hit the street. and start again.
