I know I must have lost my mind,
Reaching for something I cannot catch
Or virtue of a different kind.

I never thought that one could find
In someone else a perfect match
I know I must have lost my mind

In a subject so undefined
It's to this feeling I attach,
A virtue of a different kind.

Though after many I have pined,
From this one I can not detach
I know I must have lost my mind.

Oh, many scenes I have designed
But from these I have not a scratch
Of virtue of a different kind.

Were I to speak, and be declined,
To someone else I'd soon dispatch;
I know I must have lost my mind,
Or virtue of different kind.

Would that I were not a ghost,
Forever doomed to haunt thee,
To follow one I loved the most;
Would that I were not a ghost!
To watch as you resign your post,
Preparing to forget me;
Would that I were not a ghost,
Forever doomed to haunt thee!

The color orange puts me in pain
The memory, I seek to overwrite
The instances of which I would complain --
"The color orange puts me in pain!"
I recall the carrots, left out in the rain
And the red hair soaked with sweat by night
Yes, the color orange puts me in pain
The memory, I seek to overwrite

I've digressed to a point where I can't appreciate
making every decision with logic, without fail;
That's something I could never imagine I'd hate.

There was a time when my anger had a point to illustrate;
Now I curse and condemn and convey to no avail.
I've digressed to a point where I can't appreciate.

There was a time when my anger would not abate;
Now my cool and calm demeanor has learned to prevail.
That's something I could never imagine I'd hate.

There was a time when his endless curiosity, I'd sate;
Now his tirade of questions is aimed at another male.
I've digressed to a point where I can't appreciate.

There was a time when his mere image would aggravate;
Now my spirit holds not the anger his proximity should entail.
That's something I could never imagine I'd hate.

There was a time when I could be near and not disintegrate;
Now at the very sight of these two men, needs must I quail.
I've digressed to a point where I can't appreciate,
And that's something I could never imagine I would hate.

a disagreement
      between my bones and my logic
      my body and my mind
      torn between a choice
      and choosing --
      ****** if i do, ****** if i don't.
      my bones
and
      my logic
and
      my heart
at war,
      destroying this vessel, but
can't we all just get along?