Everyday
I never know
if I will hear her voice when I call.
One meaningless day,
two months of solitude;
&& I\'ve witnessed her downfall.
I fell with her at first,
but I\'ve crawled back to the surface,
and watched her throw her life away.
Like a movie, I saw this.
\"Sanity\", she calls it; in little packages, bottles and paper.
Everyday.
Everyday.
Sometimes I call her, to be sure that she\'s still breathing.
Sometimes I pretend that everything is the way it should be.
Sometimes I wish it were me
instead of her.
Because I know.
I know.
That, one day, I\'ll call;
and it won\'t be her voice at all.
Just static.
&& suddenly, I\'m a puzzle again.
At her fingertips.
To piece together, or throw away.
Just throw me away.
You know you want to.
