It’s nothing really,
the thought in my head,
nothing that needs to be told out loud.
Why you would want to know,
I haven’t a clue,
but you persist with your questions
and annoying prodding.
I know you think it’s cute and maybe a bit funny.
I know you’ve told your friends how foolish I am
but that somehow you still love me.
It matters not, I suppose,
so long as we’re together
but sometimes your constant existence in my world
makes me want to run away.
All I need is this watch
and this lighter
and this cigarette
and maybe a change of clothes.
I could run to the end of the world
and leave you here still laughing at nothing.
Perhaps I will or perhaps not;
does it really matter?