my roommate sits on the floor, fixing a frame;
three lamps and one overhead light on,
because she likes to keep things bright

i am not darkness,
but
compared to this place,
i am something near it

there is nothing left of me at my mother's house
(it was never mine itwas never some thingofmine)

she has ex's calling
while we joke about having backup plans

we have the right intentions
with the preset plans of a future

but we all know things never come out as planned

as she fixes the frame,
i can only suspect she'll change it soon

because we never seem to stick to our plans.

06/10/2007