A pretty girl tried to kiss me on New Years Eve,
I recoiled in pain and disgust,
my smile she did misperceive,
as an invite for spontaneous lust.
She told herself I must be taken,
or gay or something like that,
she couldn’t have been more mistaken,
I just don’t engage in emotional chit-chat.
My deadness is easy to sense and see,
there must be someone who can wake what’s inside,
my world is full of chaff and debris,
until they appear I will live as if I have died.