a month

junkie
with guilt
and i never even let on
still embarassed by my lack of will
and i spent the time spinning and spinning and building cities
with houses and temples and freeways
and seemingly dreaming of disatsers and heartbreaks
and its hard to know whats real when shes only that close
and its hard to know whats right when you are far less dressed
and its easy to believe when she wakes up and sleepily kisses your furrowed forehead