broken engine : poetry

20040803

: the visitor i miss :

when
you come by
it helps me think
it helps me relax
and it helps me be me
never apologize
for being real
it's oxygen
for the lungs of one
who's spent months
under fathoms of pretense
i don't think you've been boring
in your whole life
your eyes
are so alive
you're scintillating
just sitting there
saying nothing