I’d like to tell you where I stand
but my only reference is
how far away from you,
Isn’t that sad?

I want to tell you how I feel
I want you to understand
but what I want and how I feel
aren’t compatible . . .
Isn’t that mad?

Do you ever long,
for that terrifying longing?
Do you miss that passionate fear
of wanting to touch my hand?
I do . . .
Do you find that sad?
The world turns,

The world burns
It shatters and falls to pieces . . .
and I still have ears
for your heart
I still can hear the echo
of that one distant beat,
fading little by little
in the crowd of “matters that matter”
Isn’t that so very sad?