[the things that smart]

This wood

The thicket warbles in despair,

The air

Is hard and bites my eyes,

I rise

And now I see no forest anywhere.

I care,

Only for the trees that once stood here,

(so near)

Now stocked in some department store, deep in Indiana, where the sunlight

Never goes.

My love,

She has me 'round her thumb,

(can't run).

Even when she lets me go,

I know,

That little bits of her have stuck

(My luck)

In the place it hurts the deepest where the barbs catch in

My heart.

Oh, well,

No pretty girl can I appreciate,

I hate,

My bitter bad addiction to the things she deprecates,

Too late

For me to bother to escape.

The nape

of my neck's between her fingers and she holds me to the light.

I fear,

There's no more love I can obtain,

Her stain,

Will never leave this shirt and just above my heart I find

I hurt.