i've tasted it, i think

an evening of my own 

spacious and ever mine 

now i can listlessly 

twirl my hair 

while i'm on the toilet 

instead of master-mining 

a small little collision 

with your orbit

i don't dream about trips with you 

because i know they'll 

never be as sweet

as in my mind 

they're pungent 

acerbic

full with 

stupid questions 

and zings 

that always sting 

inevitably 

i'm going to get annoyed with you 

because the truth is 

i don't like who you are 

very much 

i don't think 

maybe i'll join him 

cross country 

only if he asks 

because i think i know 

here is better

don't worry 

oh don't fret 

darling 

i'll always hold 

a little soft spot 

a corner of my heart 

that you can call 

your empty evening