strata strata

This is out of musicdork;

I notice that whenever I'm going through a heartache, I always listen to Nick Cave. His guttural voice, on rotation, 24/7.

I always pull the blinds, put Nick Cave on low and wished I had a cigarette to smoke. Instead I stare at my ceiling, not really seeing anything but his face, and my pain. I lay there on the floor, motionless and numb, letting everything wash through me.

People will think I look stoned. But actually that's how I recuperate, that's how I mend myself back together. All that 4 hours of staring lazily at the white washed, not really focusing at the moving fan blades, sometimes seeing his name. It's not really a walk in the park, or to be more accurate, not really as lazy as it seems.

It takes a lot of effort. At least for me. I think about you, and how crazy it is that in a short period of time you had me wrapped around that calloused finger of yours. If love isn't blind, I'd sock it to the ground. But I have conscience.

I just don't have him.

Yes.