Runnin around

All the fucking children
and all the fucking 'she said, he said'
and all the fucking 'I love you's that are never written
or never sent
and all the fucking
'I'd fuck her, or not'
which is just bullshit
because we'd all fuck anyone given the circumstance.
But I still think about him
And he (all those hes and shes) still stubbornly refuses to think about me
which is the way of things
and we are still alive for our one more day
and 'we won't die just yet'
he tells me, only he can't really speak so it is more like charades
this charade
of not loving
when we love and we just won't say we love
and we won't hug much
because I don't hug
so we don't touch
and sometimes we fight
although you say you don't
but we do
we do