We walked down perfect cement, two years old
You and I are alone/together/apart
I'm carrying a bag of candy
The sheets are warm
After you say
Nothing you just smile
We are not one
I am an infant and you are ancient
The streets are clear and cold
There is a gap/closeness/break
Between us and around us
I am made of blood and bottlecaps and pipe dreams born of too much alt-culture and my immortality is a lie
You don't seem to care
One day it's all too much
You tremble and I shatter
You run and I fall
Little children take my shoes and money, crows and rats my flesh
One year later, I am you
And I/you walks down perfect cement with me
Of you, they ask "Do you?" and I reply with "Yes."
I/you am/are justified in this statement, and I/you understand why
You are the way you are
And I die
