what is there left to tell
anymore? I'm presenting my case to an empty room
filled with silence that illuminates my hurt.
Don't worry about it,
you're worthless to me now; you
have no invitation to my thoughts.
On second thought,
I'll let you in on this special occasion, just don't tell
the others because there's limited room
in my mind. And we don't want to hurt
them, do we? Come on in, it
won't take me long. So, you
can leave those glossy, black dress shoes of yours
on. That's funny, I thought
you used to wear those worn out, smelly Converse? I can tell
at least one of us has allowed room
for growth. Your shoes, do they hurt?
They look like they might be a bit tight. Oh well, it
is of no concern to me. It's
looking a bit chilly out there, do you
care to stay a while? No? You
have to leave soon? Wait, I thought
I was going to tell
you something. Why are we standing in this room?
It's so unpresentable and embarrassing, it hurts!
Oh my, you stubbed your toe on my guitar, and now it hurts?
Hold on, let me grab a bandage so it
will hurt no more. How are you
feeling now? Good! I thought
that might help. Tell
me, may I come to your room
sometime? I bet your room
is filled with wonders so glorious, it hurts!
What do you mean I can't visit? It
shouldn't be a problem for you,
right? But I thought-
Fine, but let me tell
you this. Leave my room, for you
aren't welcome to my thoughts, or any of it.
There's someone better I can tell, and it won't cost me any hurt.