Glass Fingertips

Here I am again, trying at it, trying to find it, trying to hang on to it when I get it.

I'm such a loser, what's wrong with me? I am good looking, smart and funny, please I'm

use to the jealousy. But here I am with glass finger tips that have no grip on them, they can never hold on to love no matter how tight I grip it

Every time one slips through my fingers I curl up in pain vowing never to try again but the emptiness is just as painful, so I try again. I never learned love but I know what it looks like and it looks really pretty. I wish I knew how to hold it because I tell you it feels so nice when it's with me but it always soon fly away and I can never keep it from flying off,

I then return to an empty life again and try filling it with alcohol, drugs and music.

The emptiness hurts a lot, there's an awful kind of sharpness to it when finding yourself in it again, anew.

I'm back loneliness and I'm ready to hurt again. I'm ready for I got alcohol to drown you with, drugs to hide you with, music to hug me and inspire me to try again. With that still I almost know now I'll fail again, I know now and accept that with these glass finger tips I will lose love again unable to hang on to it.