February 22, 2011.

Maybe I should paint my nails pink
and learn how to think
Nothing works, so live with nothing working
No one cares, so be the one who's caring
On my own.
Still now I live for later days,
knowing it should be everyday
But each time a laugh, I begin to choke
It's never had to do with smoke
You can tell by the color of my face
my body's just putting me in my place
Maybe I should let the polish peel
and learn how to feel
I love too much, I could try stopping
I'm always cold inside, I might pile on the clothing
On my own.
They're bare and color gone,
I still find things to carry on
The music plays, so listening
Friends are far, but we get togethering
On our own.


But now we must pick up every piece
Of the life we used to love
Just to keep ourselves
At least enough to carry on