something about coffee nowadays
makes me cry (sad)
the same way
normally crowded streets
(empty)
make me happy
somewhere, everywhere
people in a corner
still, when they should be moving
silent (quiet) when they should be talking
vacant
directionless
turning the pages for meaning
scanning the meanings for feeling
the habit of scratching
the back of my head
[and] to find nothing
(and) itching the head of my back
to (find a) [hollow] space
with no switch
to turn on a hollow hard-drive
with no battery
to realize a hollow body
[happysad had sappy sadhappy
happy had sappy sad sappy
happy=sad=happy
sad happy sad]