standing there, a strongish one just living after I met you, all flowers in your eyes practiced like little value in the economic sense. cause there was nothing to trade you for, and nothing I could ever want to trade you for, and nothing worth trading you for. I'd even buy you a coke if I thought it would matter, but of course it didn't. afraid of the random unknown drugs you could consume, it wasn't worth getting to know you, I didn't really mean to hold your hand and I didn't really mean to take the time to get to understand you sitting at the kitchen table we'd probably drink some tea if you hadn't went away so soon – or worse, hadn't gotten to know the other side of me, the side nobody wanted to see, the side that wasn't worth seeing.