christmas

the air is frigid but not biting cold and there's no snow on the roads, no leaves, either, just here and there a dead cigarette. the sky is heavy; with all the clouds in it it's pressing down its weight on me and i'm not hurt, i'm just exhausted, i simply want to sleep, but it's almost christmas.

i don't talk about myself a lot these days because there's nothing more to say, i've been bad, i've been better, i've cried for help and now my throat stings from smoking. the neon signs around me promise fulfilment but all i want is no more flashing. i wish i understood. i wish i was bright pink, too. i wish i wished for anything at all. but i'd rather just lie.

it's almost christmas.

there's the pressure. there's time. there's the causality of life. go, go, go. walk on. it's almost christmas.

and we get old so fast.

raindrops, giving me a rhythm to hold onto, to breathe to, and when i stare at them long enough, for a moment, i forget.

you miss being a child. you miss being young and the world being easy. you should have believed him when he told you he loved you.

maybe i'll just buy myself a hot chocolate. and then i'll stay awake and fight my tired eyes. i want to sleep so badly. i will watch tv until i fall unconscious, just like yesterday. it works. it's good. you stare at raindrops and forget. then it's tomorrow.

i remember back when we were young and beautiful and sometimes i think we can be again

but it's almost christmas