The Depths
<< 8:09 p.m. - Tuesday, Nov. 01, 2005 >>

Almost a year and a half with this man.
This little growing boy.
And I don�t know where that gets us.
Because I don�t think I want to be here anymore.

I know I don�t want your drugs.
I don�t need your warm breath in my face at night.
I don�t think I need your arms.
I don�t believe I can handle this.

I don�t want to need you like I do.
But you let me cry without shame.
And you accept me so wholly for who I am.
So why do I want to leave every time I don�t see you?

I recommend the life of the detached.
The single.
The solid.
I can�t even myself act on it.
I do not know how to be alone anymore.

I�ve watched you. I see you so clear, kid.
You nurse your chemical dependence
with greater tenderness than you would me.
And I hate the smoke that drifts lazily from my room.

The depth of this hole is visible to everyone but you.
So don�t you dare tell me you�re quitting.
If it were true, it might save us.
I know it�s not.
We aren�t saved, Babe,
we�re just sinking.
I have to save myself first.

So if you were surprised.
Now you know.
Maybe you understand me this time.
I just can�t do this.