There's no casual way to say
I'm sorry we lost touch too
I know I was always one of the better letter writers of the twenty first century
In every thing I breathe love into, I am prolific
I like writing more than most so
An ink-stained heart-spill goes unanswered, and I do not have to
Wonder, and I know stamps are expensive
(Or maybe priceless, for what they are)
But the thing is, is that they're hard to remember
I used to keep a book of them next to my mirror
But its a mess down there on the carpet, and I don't know
What I can say to the boy I love without it being too much
And every time I write a four page SOS to K, everything
I've just penned has completely changed by the time I cross the T's
Or cross my heart and hope to
Its not nice of me to say I never noticed
Because I was too busy worrying about how there were only two of us
Besides K, besides myself there were only two of us
Out of all those people when we were thick as thieves
Like blood in the zip code of my lonely cola veins
There are many I would rather forget, and am coming close to
There are two I pray are either in jail or in the asylum of the state and of
Their ashtray broken promise broken synapse souls
There were only two I missed, and needed, and talked to, and liked
Two that weren't going to fuck or beat the life out of someone
Two that had something to say but kept silent when listening
Two that had a chance for a beautiful life and one of them fucking died
Nobody wants to talk about him
I don't
I don't think we ever did, back when I wanted to
And you can waltz back into my life to the tune of whatever
Bright Eyes song you want, you really can
And K is still perfect, she is an angel cut in half, filled with sugar
And sealed back up and I don't always know who I am
And now I have no idea who you are and there is no
Polite way to wonder to you
Whether he was the only one
Of us who was ever any good at all
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