I own nothing, and by nothing I mean this pain.

There you are...
I mean, me, I am. There I am
gutting my guts
and stomaching my stomach

Getting high in pain
believing people change
feeling how people change...
people, I mean, me.
Feeling how I change

Missing you again,
and with with you
I mean me
and
you,
if that ever existed
at any given point,
then I miss that point,
the one that I can't recall
in this instant
of pain
of high
being high
on pain

I don't do too many drugs anymore
I don't miss them
I don't care about them
as I don't care whether is day
or night
or pain
or more pain
or less pain
or pain in my knees
or in my chest
or in my right shoulder
or my back
or what does it takes
to ease that pain.

Because people don't change
not too much
not really
and by people I mean
me
I
remember this pain
since I remember.
The emptiness
and... I'm able to see it
-maybe I'm just delusional-
in other people
and I fell in love with their pain
that won't relieve mine
but will make it feel comfy
rather accompanied
or something alike
but won't make me forget
or maybe it will
doesn't matter
doesn't really matter
not now
not anymore.

Years have happened to me
in beautiful succesion
and still remember the look in that eyes
the sligh sadness
and by that I mean
hers, not mine,
because
not even this frail memory
is a little mine.

After all
I own nothing,
and by nothing
I mean this pain.