the sound of dripping rain beating a frail window enhancing the tick tocking noise in my head against the shivering glass i cannot hear my own sobbing anymore that way maybe i can learn to forget and forgive myself i m not interesting i m interested the comforting perfume of urine mixed with mediocrity it s a matter of appreciating what you truly know it s a cynical point of view from a back alley to a crowded main street in broad daylight i could ve been saved you know a pretty girl who just passed by smiled at me only to realise that she was actually smiling at somebody else she knew right aside me i m not good at being noticed there s not a chance in the world that i could possibly erase all the oily fingerprints i ve left on everything i ve done that i m not too proud of yet i still think that all this crying arguing and fighting was good for nothing if in the end i didn t kill her 