I sit here in a cold bed of wet sweat,
I sit here by the terrace wondering a dead beat.
I pace the halls lost in my thoughts,
I race down that endless tunnel in a sea of drought.
Maybe, if he had not lost his patience.
Maybe, if she had kept that belief.
Maybe, if he had seen through the words of doubt.
Maybe, if she had thought just once before putting them in black and white.
The party has died and everyone's gone home.
Empty glasses and torn wrapping paper lie in ruined Rome.
Sunlight peeps through the drawn shades,
Of the promise and reality from which hope seems to fade.
Everything brings back a memory.
Everything brings back a story.
Nothing makes it feel better.
Nothing comes to him like that unwritten letter.
Therein lies the half-eaten cake icing,
with a photo of him smiling in better times a-coming.
He remembers the oncoming "I told you so's ".
He also remembers the feelings of inconsolable loss.
I wish, I could put my arms around a memory,
But that, my dear friend is not a likely possibility.
I wish, I could put my arms around her.
I wish, I could kiss away all that fear.
As I sit here in front of the screen at the break of dawn. Surrounded by awesomeness and love passed out in various forms. The hole is ever more glaring. Not just because of the physical absence, but the possibility of a vanished hope.
"Happy Birthday.!!" the crows caw, as he lights another one for the next decade..
I sit here by the terrace wondering a dead beat.
I pace the halls lost in my thoughts,
I race down that endless tunnel in a sea of drought.
Maybe, if he had not lost his patience.
Maybe, if she had kept that belief.
Maybe, if he had seen through the words of doubt.
Maybe, if she had thought just once before putting them in black and white.
The party has died and everyone's gone home.
Empty glasses and torn wrapping paper lie in ruined Rome.
Sunlight peeps through the drawn shades,
Of the promise and reality from which hope seems to fade.
Everything brings back a memory.
Everything brings back a story.
Nothing makes it feel better.
Nothing comes to him like that unwritten letter.
Therein lies the half-eaten cake icing,
with a photo of him smiling in better times a-coming.
He remembers the oncoming "I told you so's ".
He also remembers the feelings of inconsolable loss.
I wish, I could put my arms around a memory,
But that, my dear friend is not a likely possibility.
I wish, I could put my arms around her.
I wish, I could kiss away all that fear.
As I sit here in front of the screen at the break of dawn. Surrounded by awesomeness and love passed out in various forms. The hole is ever more glaring. Not just because of the physical absence, but the possibility of a vanished hope.
"Happy Birthday.!!" the crows caw, as he lights another one for the next decade..
1 comment:
"You know the first time you fall in love? and you feel those things you’ve never felt before? that’s the peak of a wave. when you break up, it feels awful and you think you’ll never love again. but you do and maybe it’s even better than the first time. so your dynamic range grows again, but it grows in both directions so you can have more risk. more to lose, but more to love… drink to that."
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