I can still be happy for more than half of my life.
I can let all of this go for two hours or four hours or eight hours and do a trial run,
like I need to convince myself that it exists,
and when it goes so well, it's not awkward, even all things considering,
you stepping in, forcing your way in to remind us you won't be ignored.
Still demanding, controlling, trying to make this in to what you want.
This story isn't yours anymore, you're hardly worthy of being mentioned by name.
I'll keep you somewhere in the crowd, an extra, because it's true you'll never be gone,
you'll never be forgotten, we'll never be over, even though this is.
As down as it can get me on the one hand,
I know I have to make it through and there has to come a point when you get bored
or run out of steam, or are fully distracted by your own other things;
when all of this obscure strung out pain and madness,
this battle for nothing can end.
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