• There is a boy
    at the foot of my bed,
    he stares at me every night,
    his stare makes me feel guilty
    it makes me feel filthy.

    He comes every night,
    "another guilt-trip tonight?" I ask,
    he just stares on
    his brown eyes still as a statue,
    I know what he wants.
    But I am too tough for him.

    He wants to be heard,
    he wants to be seen
    he wants to feel
    to touch
    to breathe,
    but i know better.

    I keep him quite
    I keep him hidden
    I keep him away from the world
    I keep him where he belongs,

    And so he stares at me,
    every night.
    But some nights, I stare back
    and a moment is shared between us,
    and he knows and thinks:
    "maybe one day."

    and he still stares at me, but he is smiling now
    and I am smiling too,
    so we sit there, smiling like psychopaths
    and I know I am lying to myself,
    it's almost enough to make me cry.

    But I can't cry anymore,
    can you?