The man told me today at the auto shop
that I need a new compressor installed.
Oh that's just perfect, I told myself,
now is the time my car is also getting old.
I lost my wallet a month ago or so
and my computer got infected too.
I had my twenty-sixth birthday last week
and whom do I blame this to?
Things in my life are turning cold on me.
With your belongings gone from my flat
my belongings are not coping with me right.
I turn for comfort now only to my cat.
I burn off calories on puking up
and I sleep to the sound of my own thoughts
instead of your snores and breathing,
but at least I think no more of how we fought.
Was agreement so necessary?
Were differences so disturbing?
We had a harmony of our own kind.
For what more were we starving?
My life is alright.
I wake up alright.
But alright is awful without you.
My life is with one too little of you.
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