Woke up with a panic attack,
and I prayed you might come back to me.
But I know it’s all a part of my fantasy.
It’s hard to fall in love
with somebody who thinks it’s just another meal,
another page in a magazine.
After breakfast I took a hike. Through the park
where we used to fly kites.
I fed our Squirrel he asked me “how are you?”
It’s hard to fall in love.
With somebody who’s in love with drugs.
It’s so predictable like a rerun.
After supper I went to bed,
dreaming things I never had.
Dreams without you and without you.
Kites. Our love was higher than kites.

© 2008 Radical Turf