It’s like a force inside,

Sharp and hurtful like a knife,

I guess this must be what it feels like,

To be stabbed in the back,

I’ve left so many clues,

And picked up others on the way,

And still I sit here undecided,

Feel like I have more time to do nothing,

Feeling like more is accomplished,

When I’m sitting here motionless like you,

And it’s so fun to tangle, and weave,

Around these words and phrases,

Pictures and faces,

But I’m bored here, bored of being alone,

But your company won’t do,

Never, and it seems it’s all I do,

When all I feel, seems senseless,

And I wonder why I keep telling myself,

It’s good.