poor old man told me life was just beginning

the butterflies were great while they lasted
but i dont really want them back again
because while it was nice
it wasnt me

im so much more
when im lonely
lacking is sweet
how can i write when it doesnt mean a thing?

im back:
praying for angel wings
causing scars
in the heat

i hope it didnt mean a thing
because he is no longer
what i need
sorry- now you can breathe