I could smoke joints like cigarettes
If only I had papers
At least then I could pretend it's ok

I don't feel like I *really* smoke all the time anyway
I never *really* feel like anything's real these days
Not since I left you
You kept everything real about me

Everything i felt
I felt with you
I have to make up emotional responses now
I have to conjure up images of the past
To remind myself that what I do matters
Becasue i'm really here

the face of the girl
you hid in your closet
has passed my eyes twice
but her image is fuzzy in my mind
Even as though *she* never really happened

All this pot
All this pot i smoke
It's all because I don't believe i'm really smoking it
Al this pot
all this pot because it doesnt feel real
All this numbness because you killed me inside
And i'm just using the pot
Because i'm still making excuses for you
All these tears
That will never fall
Because i wasted them
All on you

Wasted
And i'm wasted right now
And i'm wasting time
thinking about
How wasted you were when you kissed me
I bet you regretted it when you woke up that morning
But beauty is in the eye of the beer holder
And you sure can put 'em away, cant you?
HA!
You thought you wanted me!
Well, i sure showed you, didnt i?
No one will ever make *that* mistake again.

06/25/2004

Posted on 06/25/2004
Copyright © 2025 Amy Wustrin