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~| u n t i t l e d . ( a g a i n ) |~



the silence inside
is a deafening rot
of those hills we were
supposed to climb...

I never needed four hands
to get where i was going
never needed another opinion
to make up one mind,
I never needed you
to begin with...

So this is where
i make myself into stone,
where i take my way
away from your ways
and make me
myself again...

try to touch me inside
again,
and you'll face
an army of me,
just waiting to
set this rotting heart
to pump my vile poisons
and hurt you back...

...because i'd be happier
if I could erase you
from my brain,
every day with you,
every night with you,
every memory of you...

I don't owe you a smile.


© 1996, h e a t h . h o u s t o n