all my favourite things

are slowly fading into the background

we don't hold hands

so tight anymore

my old toys

and your old medicine cabinet

look more welcoming

each day

i pass through the crowd

like a child

despaired and disoriented

ignored

i'm someone else's business

all my favourite people

remember when we meant so much

so much more

and we could sit outside

and pretend i wouldn't burn

the scarring was worth

worth the sentimentality

I'm someone else's business