Talking With Liars.

The pier was empty.  And it always will be.
You keep saying that I still look lovely in corduroy.
And I keep complaining about the wind that stings my eyes.
But you're right, I do talk too much sometimes.

Is that the best you can do?

All these other people telling me the same thing:  "He can't take you anymore."
And they tell you: "Divide and conquer the cheap conventions.  But don't let the judge hear it."
I don't even know what that means.

But I do know that I don't like to be stampeded.
And I told you that, but you ignored me.
So I just sipped my tea, while you promised that you'd take care of me.
You're always saying that, and you know aren't going to do it.

And that means that none of us ever need to go out again.

I wish I could make myself feel less sad.
I've been kneeling here for almost an hour.
And I know it drives you crazy.
And I should not have spoken.
It wasn't necessary.

But when I had woken up, I had forgotten what my name was.

And you just stared at me and said:
"No offense lady, but I don't even know you."