small pieces of paper
and a cardboard box of get-away-from-me
thoughts full of summers past
too many people i don't want
too many keys, no homes of mine
turning around and cameras go wide
my movie has too much acting
and not enough cigarettes
ripped apart so tiny
hearts and guards all around my prison
shine in on me, pretending to be present
i am my own friend
i am, without any other
look and point and please do stare
the cast is absent
maybe too tired to deal with words
no longer heard or talked about
but felix is still sitting there
on a chair or possibly a stool
he's a very kind person
he's simple and well mannered
a foot out of spot light
the dust still floats higher
you can almost see it if you tried
