I wonder what I am to you. I'm sure your response would be Somewhere around Nothing. You could be lying to hide some small token of caring - But I doubt it. Marble statues envy Your cold indifference to me... And I gave up everything I struggled to gain To start over with Nothing In hopes that maybe you Would come around And we could start weaving miracles From these dreams I keep to hide the fact that I have Nothing That I am Nothing And your are nothing short of impossible. I would ask you what my love is to you if I didn't already know the answer - Which is the same as everything else - A single word that burns in my mind And eats at me - Persistent as time itself. So I work everyday For somewhere around Nothing. At least - Not enough to leave you to your miserable soltitude. While you are stuck living with my presence - I could count the hours we spend Having the same conversations Over and Over again And you could tell me every little thing I'm doing wrong - So I can lie awake at night And wonder why I fight for you - Why I'd die for you - When my worth in your eyes can be blown away by one of your frustrated sighs at my ineptitude. And you could ask me what would make me stop loving you. As far as I can tell - It wouldn't be anything short of Nothing. 8-3-03