space is my final resting place. It is where I struggle in haste, where I swim without grace, never going here or there - never going anywhere. A penny for your thoughts? I'd pay a dime to have one. Instead I'll just sit here and feel like a bum as I stare at the sun... ...till my eyes go blind but I won't really mind because I've wasted my sight on hating this body that's mine. so now all that will lie is all that's behind. But alas I am beat - my eyes begin to weep. my eyelids slam close because the body always knows the best way to go when the brain tries to oppose. So myself wouldn't let me stare at the sun for too long, and now here I am turning my empty head into a song... but looking back now I think I got it all wrong.