Waiting for someone to tolerate me. Hanging around because I can't leave this cat behind. In nine lives if I haven't found something to hold on to, Why worry? Nobody I care for will be around. The only emotion that I can convey when I contemplate my life, Is an uncompramising, feeling of uncertainty. Which is caused by a combination of lack of self respect, And an overwhelming lack of company. So I will share my bed with phantom limbs, and live my life in tidy rooms. Surround myself with living things that don't know how to move. I am like cigarettes and steak and booze, obesity and stress, Everyone with a bad heart will blame me for their mess.