why the games we play
during the sleep that i waste?
i cant remember
the last time,
i cared.
so much.
everything else is nothing now, 
not like it used to be,
surely not like
we pretend to see.
i suppose to a certain
extent
weve fooled ourselves,
certainly a tiny bit
ill admit.
cuz ive got you guessing
while you think youre recalling -
more like stalling.
put it on hold.
press pause and
start a new movie.
press pause and
start a new movie.
press pause,
end a new movie.
too much empty air
found in your too much empty space;
the kind i cannot erase.
work comes to early,
too hard,
too little pay.
i miss the calls
to break up the day
in your only way.
but,
go
ahead...
push it as far as you like
from what you pretend to call
your memory.
its like a rubberband
in a rubberoom
on a rubberbplanet
filled with rubbersouls.
snap!
it comes back
and stings your eye
with every tear we
say we dont cry.
a little longer
and a little more intense
every time.
i can only imagine
how next time might feel
or how many next times
it will take to get it right.

how many different ways
can the rubberband
really snap?


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