November 2007
I've forgotten what it feels like to feel normal
To be normal
I've forgotten what food tastes like
The way it tastes right
The taste buds taste right
I wake up in so much spit and sweat, it is no
At the most I’m a glare,
I’m the hopeless son who’s hardly there.
I’m the open sign that’s always busted.
I’m the friend you need, but can’t be trusted.