You’d think the sun would rise. Been hiding out for days. It’s not that I’m depressed. It’s more a slight malaise. The day you said goodbye, it mustn’t mean the end. I was taught to never lie, but I’ll pretend. Brushing off a touch of sorrow, I’ll say I’m fine though I’m a drudge. I’m walking backwards to tomorrow. What’s the point of facts if not to fudge. Half-empty house that’s fairly full of fading memories. Who needs to see the forest when you’re in the trees? It’d be a lie if I were to try to say I’m over you. I’ll pretend till you return, and that’s no lie, it’s true.
