There is a distinct feeling of separation, perhaps even conflict. That grimy feeling on your teeth, a film that needs to be brushed away, and would be, if only you could stop smoking and drinking. Orange juice and toothpaste is a terrible combination.
You can see the other path through the trees. The one you could be on, if only you had made a decision sooner. Would it have even mattered? There is no wind tonight, no sound at all. Only words which will never be spoken.
With every rumor I deny, and every implication I reject, the deepening frown becomes harder to hide. Everyone else sees it, why can’t you? Live the lie, and I’ll go on pretending you mean nothing to me.