When I get off at night
Whispering expletives to the wind
I can sometimes hear you
Not in the wind, per se
But right next to me on my way
to my car and in the passenger seat
I'll say something softly to myself
and know exactly what you'd tell me
"What do you think of monocles?"
"I think they're fucking GAY!"
I don't think of you sexually anymore
In fact that's part of it all I wish
Could be completely erased
You could just become a black sterile figure
And I'd still think of you all day
Is that kind of creepy?
Reminds me of when we first met
And I hated you then
How could I know a comment like
"the quiet thing is kinda creepy"
was a joke, with a face
that solemn
But you were like me
We hurt the ones we love
There's no way around it
Maybe I am creepy
But that's not my point
It's just that
I don't even know where you are anymore
You could even be dead
or married
Which one's scarier
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