Seeking Fresh Air

Searching I found it

The thing I seek

Good times, or bad times

I will never share it

While the drum is beating,

I’ve still got air.

There a bullet in my heart

That I just don’t see or care

I know what it means to be alone

I don’t care what they say

I don’t love you

You’re just a distraction that I put away

And save for the bad,

And squander for the good.

Girl… just leave.

I don’t love like you.