intagliare

behind my eyes
they are all there
between my dreams
they weave their redolence
soft sighs and silken breaths
saccharine lips and fingertips...

i can not offer what i do not have
nor can i assume i belong anywhere else
when i am not even sure if i really belong where i came from
everything is so strained and truncated
i can not hear the music in my pain
nor can i see the beauty in the city lights
on this side of the night there are no stars
nothing to look up to
nothing to dream about
i think i just made them up
and someday everything will fall
one of these days i'll make up my mind

it's over.
why ask me now?
it wasn't up to me then
it isn't up to you now.
don't i wish it was
like don't you?