Right now.
Something about their mellow songs
Is so horribly soothing.
"Heroin" reminds me of you.
And "Sunday Morning" sometimes
Strikes a chord in me that makes me
Want to cry.
I'm not sure why.
I'm sure you remember
(Not really)
When I became ill
Over him,
Correct?
You know, I'm sure,
That such things are unhealthy.
But alas,
It is happening again.
And it's always this horribly
Difficult feeling to capture
In words and justify as needed.
I hope you who are reading this
Can understand
My idiocy.
But yes,
My stomach is turning itself end over end
Once more.
My poor dear,
I hope these things are not true
(However counterintuitive this seems).
How cruel it would seem.
Unless of course,
It proves true
And you enacted it.
I still would worry for you, though.
It troubles me, really,
To think you may now be alone.
Mi carissime,
Are you alright?
I hope you don't find yourself all down
And blue-feeling.
If such things are true,
My dear, I am sorry.
I am not very good
At consolation,
And since these are just silly rumors
And inferences,
I know nothing for sure.
But...
It troubles me.
I hope you are alright,
And nothing is plaguing you terribly so.
If you are distressed,
I wish you would say so,
Perhaps we could talk.
Perhaps.
I hope you had no ulterior motive.
But here I am,
All worried and oddly ill-feeling
And it's you,
And I know that.
But I cannot remedy it.
I just wish for certainty...
You worry me.
It's horrid, silly.
Why does this happen?
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