Wasting and Titus

Blame it on allergies,

or things stuck in my eyes,

like the countless bugs I've

been encountering practically

every time that I leave my room

for a smoke or a walk or a breath

of something outside.

My eyes are red from what I've been

watching happen as I drift between

consciences and different states in my

head. And I won't stop thinking about

my dreams. And my allergies are real

enough to make you think its just the

pests hanging in the air, waiting for me.

Because at least someone's waiting for me.

And I heard Titus sing to me,

"So I'm saying goodbye, and no, I won't forget to write. It's just been too long racing towards a yellow light, and I know that I say this every night, but I don't think I've ever been so tired of life."

And finding new places and wasting more gas

was supposed to help me find me in places I'd

enjoy more than empty trees and half-suns in

the skies but I'm already tired from not sleeping

each night and I've got to wonder just how long

Just how long it might be before something

finally comes.