Strange, and stranger yet it gets
That I don't know what I long for
I live, yet don't, have a million thoughts a day
And yet, what was, is not important anymore

The constant sway of my thoughts
That way, then this way, then back
The sacrifices seem inconsequential
As does that which I think I lack

I know not what I desire
And each day I care slightly less
Oh I'd love to hold hands walking in a mall
And yet, why? Since it seems I digress