without circle

this isn't real
i hate saying it
it's just how i feel
about you

yesterday i heard your song
i almost played your tape
your mozart
your nirvana
your face impaled deep
i thought i forgot
but i remember

i thought there was a middle
and a string has two ends
and they never meet
and they never stay together
because that's the way it is
that's just how it is

there's nothing more i can say
i cry for you always
but afterwards the sky is dry
and the lines on my fingers
twist and bend
and it's tragic
i lost a friend

maybe
along the way
open the door
climb the stairs
to the top
and look down
and it isn't real
it isn't you
it isn't me
it's just how i feel
about you

-winston campbell-