not me, no, not me.

no this is not me,
lying in this place,
lurking from the corner of the block,
awaiting for you to show up,
only to run into hiding when you do,
no this is not me.

no this is not me,
sitting here alone,
perched on this seat with tea,
looking out in case you'd showed up,
and then i look back at my drink,
put the bill in and walk away,
no this is not me.

no this is not me,
waiting for the bus,
poised on this stop like a washed man,
with his umbrella in hand,
and then it comes,
along the rain it washes us,
both me, my umbrella, in this stop,
no this is not me.

no this is not me,
tapping my feet,
and thinking of how much we have drifted apart,
and then i bit my lip,
and it bled,
and then you were there,
and i walked away, leaving,
no this is not me.