Author Information
Novacaine
These new born of a not so new light fingers are
looking for a new way to bend
It's the new town and the fresh green carpet that
has left me unrequited and skeptical of red
It's just starting to turn cold
It's the six months and the old collection of
"loves of my life" that are piled up at
my back door
But after awhile the past stops knocking and
the only view you have is the blurry peep hole
And this whole house shakes when the bombs detonate
You learn to ignore the minor earthquakes and the echoing of
guns rattling the floor
And I don't mind so much anymore, losing you as a friend
Because well latley, I've been letting go of all of them
All that aside, wherever you went, it was far enough gone
Our whole existence was based on backspaced cogitations and
boxed conversations
Thoughts that had to have walls
and mouths laced with novocaine
So I've grown empty and linty
I forget to eat and
I forget that I need rest
And then I forget that I get too much sleep
I forget to feed the cats and
I forget to go outside
I forget that you forgot what any of this meant.
And it's just starting to turn cold.
