i will throw a fit in my grave.
i will talk to stones.
i will tell the cities "He is not here"
and the streets "He will not come"
i will lie.
and i will sleep.
but you would not move if I told you to,
you do not reply in sound
it is because i am a coward light creature
a half way lover
i believe in seasons.
and if you built me a house,
you know,
that i would only keep my sleep there.
and i would be sorry some days.
so you love me enough
to leave me in dirt
