put life on hold

out of sorts
with no one to sort me out

bite the hand that pets me
the one that feeds me is my own

worry about everything but what needs worrying
work it out in the dreams i don't remember
wake out with my teeth ground to dust
(who needs them anyway)

i try to not believe that if you don't let them close, they can't hurt you, but it keeps on being true.

they don't love what i love
they don't sing what i sing
they don't read wnat i read
they aren't me
how lonely. guess i'll go eat worms.