The Weight of a Ghost.
No matter how many times I close my eyes and whisper your name in my bed at night, you are never any closer. I'm left with stale words, tired letters, a broken-down thought that will never leave me. Haunted by absence and tormented by presence; a juxtiposition that will never allow me to rest in peace. Ease is a distant thought, and I'm left with no other recourse.
That all sounds dreadfully bleak doesn't it. I swear though, I'll live a life, as like everyone else. But there is an extra stone in my heart, a weight in my stride, a stutter in my eyes. I know those who care at all can see it. Remember you asked those questions? Remember the times you wondered what was wrong and I said I was OK?
OK. That is what's wrong. OK.
That all sounds dreadfully bleak doesn't it. I swear though, I'll live a life, as like everyone else. But there is an extra stone in my heart, a weight in my stride, a stutter in my eyes. I know those who care at all can see it. Remember you asked those questions? Remember the times you wondered what was wrong and I said I was OK?
OK. That is what's wrong. OK.