I've felt hell, i'm sure of it when we talk,
the closest i've ever known was watching you walk,
allowing the way you want it to overpower my health,
it was feelings that blinded me, there was no stealth,
put me fit back in my spot on your shelf,
where you collect and throw away everyone else,
i never really said this to you before,
but you can't have me cause you deserve so much more,
it's that fact that helped me with my choice
to leave two birthdays after hearing ones voice,
the call was Jim Joyced and i just walked away,
regretted it walking uptown back then, and still do today,
realize because of you sex is nothing but mace,
speeding up the blinding process once it sees your face,
no better then the poems i write, it's sad,
but they are really all i will ever have.