This is not a song..it's just me
I'm sitting down and writing. Ok stream of thought...i wish my fucking thoughts weren't always about this but it seems to be the thing I will be writing about. let's see....
Corroded locks at the end of hallways
I walked down a few weeks ago
My key expired to doors that have been sealed off
I have yet to find that second room
Where he'll be waiting
Maybe I'm the only one waiting
Holograms--no--memories laugh at me
When I reach out and try to touch them
My hand passes through and meets
No resistance, only space
No one grabbing my outstreched hand as they used to
No one grabbing my arm as I brush by them
I'm dropping pieces of myself
Useless now--pieces that he brought out
Who do I give them to for safe keeping?
Only he caught them and maybe still has them
In his left pocket mirroring the fortunes in my right
That said I found that special someone
Blindly using only sense of touch
I'm collecting bits before they disappear
Writing down images before they vanish
Being thrown over his shoulder
Falling asleep next to him
Being kissed
Personalities of relationships
Like fingerprints that can't be duplicated
There are certain ones that fit like puzzles
But some puzzles stayed on the coffee table
This full picture will never appear
It stopped being put together at age 16
Talking into silence and darkness
Needing to believe that he hears me
Say bless you when he sneezes AND coughs
And say I love you even if I didn't say it
To him when he was living
I hope that he knows now
Wanting so much to have been standing next to him
When he was on the edge of that jumping point
Even if it wouldn't have made a difference
Just to have reached out and tried to pull him back
Or maybe just to have waved goodbye and blown a kiss
Or maybe to have jumped with him--smiling on the way.
There are print outs of his smile in technicolor
But I prefer those branded into my thoughs
The ones in motion that had stories with them
Stories I was in as opposed to the place he is now
I still have all the words he said to me
But the tone of his voice is fading
I get to keep the sounds that come on the radio
Hundreds of times a day to keep me from letting go
To poke me and keep me from sleeping like he used to
That tune he played for me the first time we met
Lovers and Friends with our name on it
That's what we were and what he'll always be to me
I touch his arm that's limp and place a crane next to him
Containing words I should have said rather that wrote
His eyes are closed but the bright blue underneath shows through
The stubble on his chin is gone that I used to pull
His face is perfect and his hands are at rest at his side
His lips not like those in fairytales that can be kissed back to life
Although they are almost smiling
I have to turn and walk away taking the biggest breath I can
To take as much of him with me that last time I will ever see him
Never knowing if he could see me too
With the clicking of my shoes when leaving, I listen for footsteps following
As I used to hear each day down those same halls
Footsteps that then came and wrapped their arms around me
I still wait even when I know there's no one behind me
No sunrise or sunset goes without
Me hoping he was looking at the same one
Longing consumes certain moments
But some are filled with happiness
That I was lucky enough to have time with you
However short--that makes it more precious.
well..uh there we go. maybe it doesn't make it more precious...maybe i just missed out...or maybe i'm just incredibly selfish.
Corroded locks at the end of hallways
I walked down a few weeks ago
My key expired to doors that have been sealed off
I have yet to find that second room
Where he'll be waiting
Maybe I'm the only one waiting
Holograms--no--memories laugh at me
When I reach out and try to touch them
My hand passes through and meets
No resistance, only space
No one grabbing my outstreched hand as they used to
No one grabbing my arm as I brush by them
I'm dropping pieces of myself
Useless now--pieces that he brought out
Who do I give them to for safe keeping?
Only he caught them and maybe still has them
In his left pocket mirroring the fortunes in my right
That said I found that special someone
Blindly using only sense of touch
I'm collecting bits before they disappear
Writing down images before they vanish
Being thrown over his shoulder
Falling asleep next to him
Being kissed
Personalities of relationships
Like fingerprints that can't be duplicated
There are certain ones that fit like puzzles
But some puzzles stayed on the coffee table
This full picture will never appear
It stopped being put together at age 16
Talking into silence and darkness
Needing to believe that he hears me
Say bless you when he sneezes AND coughs
And say I love you even if I didn't say it
To him when he was living
I hope that he knows now
Wanting so much to have been standing next to him
When he was on the edge of that jumping point
Even if it wouldn't have made a difference
Just to have reached out and tried to pull him back
Or maybe just to have waved goodbye and blown a kiss
Or maybe to have jumped with him--smiling on the way.
There are print outs of his smile in technicolor
But I prefer those branded into my thoughs
The ones in motion that had stories with them
Stories I was in as opposed to the place he is now
I still have all the words he said to me
But the tone of his voice is fading
I get to keep the sounds that come on the radio
Hundreds of times a day to keep me from letting go
To poke me and keep me from sleeping like he used to
That tune he played for me the first time we met
Lovers and Friends with our name on it
That's what we were and what he'll always be to me
I touch his arm that's limp and place a crane next to him
Containing words I should have said rather that wrote
His eyes are closed but the bright blue underneath shows through
The stubble on his chin is gone that I used to pull
His face is perfect and his hands are at rest at his side
His lips not like those in fairytales that can be kissed back to life
Although they are almost smiling
I have to turn and walk away taking the biggest breath I can
To take as much of him with me that last time I will ever see him
Never knowing if he could see me too
With the clicking of my shoes when leaving, I listen for footsteps following
As I used to hear each day down those same halls
Footsteps that then came and wrapped their arms around me
I still wait even when I know there's no one behind me
No sunrise or sunset goes without
Me hoping he was looking at the same one
Longing consumes certain moments
But some are filled with happiness
That I was lucky enough to have time with you
However short--that makes it more precious.
well..uh there we go. maybe it doesn't make it more precious...maybe i just missed out...or maybe i'm just incredibly selfish.