she says
she says forget what you have to do
pretend there is nothing
outside this room
and like an idea she came to me
but she came too late
or maybe too soon
i said please try not to love me
close your eyes, i'm turning on the light
you know i have no vacancy
and it's awfully cold outside tonight
the rain stains the brick a darker red
slowly i'm rolling out of her bed
the rain stains the streets a darker black
i dress my face in stone
because i can't go back
i feel her eyes watching me
from behind the curtain of her hair
and she says i'm sorry
i didn't mean to stare
i say i think i really have to go now
but oh baby, maybe someday
maybe somehow.
-Ani Difranco
leave it to ani...
It's been a year... and what a year... if she's true to her word, she'll never see this. But that's not why I'm doing it, I'm the dumbass that remembers more dates and more numbers than any sane person would even try. And of course I have to write about it. I think about her every now and then, usually nothing more then a fleeting thought. A memory brought on by something small and seemingly insignificant to anyone else. Something like a bus ride, a smell, the cherry-blossoms, an area of town... and that damn jacket I used to love. I still wish her well, and I still miss my friend.
pretend there is nothing
outside this room
and like an idea she came to me
but she came too late
or maybe too soon
i said please try not to love me
close your eyes, i'm turning on the light
you know i have no vacancy
and it's awfully cold outside tonight
the rain stains the brick a darker red
slowly i'm rolling out of her bed
the rain stains the streets a darker black
i dress my face in stone
because i can't go back
i feel her eyes watching me
from behind the curtain of her hair
and she says i'm sorry
i didn't mean to stare
i say i think i really have to go now
but oh baby, maybe someday
maybe somehow.
-Ani Difranco
leave it to ani...
It's been a year... and what a year... if she's true to her word, she'll never see this. But that's not why I'm doing it, I'm the dumbass that remembers more dates and more numbers than any sane person would even try. And of course I have to write about it. I think about her every now and then, usually nothing more then a fleeting thought. A memory brought on by something small and seemingly insignificant to anyone else. Something like a bus ride, a smell, the cherry-blossoms, an area of town... and that damn jacket I used to love. I still wish her well, and I still miss my friend.