poets in a coffee house

the water keeps running down the drain, and i’ve spent years chasing it. to chase after something that keeps getting away; there comes a time where it feels as if it is not purposeful anymore. and things have lost their meaning. “opiates and cigarettes to help me pass the time.” i spend my days away picking up habits that are bad for me just to get you off of my mind. and now i’ve grown from sweet to sour. i still have some sweetness in me and it’s hard for me to show it. sometimes i freeze and i don’t know what to do, like a deer in headlights. i’m sorry i didn’t kiss you back. maybe it was for the best.