here's to never letting anything go
"i always catch the clock, it's 11:11 and now you want to talk..."
for three hours straight, we unwound your life. uncoiled your wounds and talked through the strife. and i, the betrayer, some brutus to take the fall, try to play both sides, try to play memories. try to break my own fall.
and life's sweet dagger, well, it's in the screen. it's black and blue and so wanting of peace. and a small sound echoes - a sound i know so well. well close your eyes, there's no telling where this hell will go.
the laughter, it echoes off the walls. it echoes, it resounds, down all the halls. and i in my mischief, you in your fear, had just settled down, for the winter's cold cheer. well here is where it picks up. here is where it ends off. quiet, keep these thoughts to yourself.
but i'm wanting to write down, this elegy. i'm wanting to carve out, the tarnished story. and the darkness that has gathered around the edges of my heart, it screams and it shatters, it falls apart.
so many faces. so many traces...of what used to be. so here's to the night...the misery.
October glows, like some red hot coal. burning its way through my eyes and my soul. and voices keep time like the ebbing tide, and we wonder why, things turned out as they did. why the words we spoke never reached an end. no conclusion. no end. no remorse. just something through which i could always find pain.
so here i am. where are you? and why do i idealize every word? why do i remember things as if they were part of some epic prose? some tragic story, some silly rhyme? do you have the time? what's the time?
and still i collect. memories grow prettier with time. but things just grow fainter around here.
late at night he walked her home, to a cold apartment, down the road. and you and i stayed, in the heat of the light, each time more painful than the last cold night. and thank you for talking because i needed to. some friends they just fade away.
late at night, you drove me home, to my cold apartment, down the road. and thank you for not talking, because that's what i needed. to just sit in the car and listen to the music. and make small talk about the music. it was always the music. that's what i mean when i speak of memories - how they twist and turn and come up changed - rearranged. and you're always the hero. but who does that make the villain? there's a boy pacing in the hall downstairs, the buildings are closing and we left him there, because his problem is that he cares. fell into this charade. these friends that derive their friendship from pain. so does that make me the villain? and you, are you too the villain? is he the hero?
i won't make connections. drive. i won't take directions. drive. circle. by the ocean's edge. soon i'll be ending this chapter, what did you think? was it everything it could have been? a summer to wait and wonder. a summer to push away further. and you'll leave me a message just wishing i'd die. and i'd want to die. but no one died then. and so we must move on. mourn our losses and go on. the end. next chapter.
right back where we started. "September never stays this cold where i come from and you know, i'm not one for complaining. but i love the way you roll excuses off the tip of your tongue as i slowly fall apart." i'm falling apart. but that's okay, so are you. the end. next chapter.
i thrive on ambiguity. and the gleam of hope that you'll know what i mean.
for three hours straight, we unwound your life. uncoiled your wounds and talked through the strife. and i, the betrayer, some brutus to take the fall, try to play both sides, try to play memories. try to break my own fall.
and life's sweet dagger, well, it's in the screen. it's black and blue and so wanting of peace. and a small sound echoes - a sound i know so well. well close your eyes, there's no telling where this hell will go.
the laughter, it echoes off the walls. it echoes, it resounds, down all the halls. and i in my mischief, you in your fear, had just settled down, for the winter's cold cheer. well here is where it picks up. here is where it ends off. quiet, keep these thoughts to yourself.
but i'm wanting to write down, this elegy. i'm wanting to carve out, the tarnished story. and the darkness that has gathered around the edges of my heart, it screams and it shatters, it falls apart.
so many faces. so many traces...of what used to be. so here's to the night...the misery.
October glows, like some red hot coal. burning its way through my eyes and my soul. and voices keep time like the ebbing tide, and we wonder why, things turned out as they did. why the words we spoke never reached an end. no conclusion. no end. no remorse. just something through which i could always find pain.
so here i am. where are you? and why do i idealize every word? why do i remember things as if they were part of some epic prose? some tragic story, some silly rhyme? do you have the time? what's the time?
and still i collect. memories grow prettier with time. but things just grow fainter around here.
late at night he walked her home, to a cold apartment, down the road. and you and i stayed, in the heat of the light, each time more painful than the last cold night. and thank you for talking because i needed to. some friends they just fade away.
late at night, you drove me home, to my cold apartment, down the road. and thank you for not talking, because that's what i needed. to just sit in the car and listen to the music. and make small talk about the music. it was always the music. that's what i mean when i speak of memories - how they twist and turn and come up changed - rearranged. and you're always the hero. but who does that make the villain? there's a boy pacing in the hall downstairs, the buildings are closing and we left him there, because his problem is that he cares. fell into this charade. these friends that derive their friendship from pain. so does that make me the villain? and you, are you too the villain? is he the hero?
i won't make connections. drive. i won't take directions. drive. circle. by the ocean's edge. soon i'll be ending this chapter, what did you think? was it everything it could have been? a summer to wait and wonder. a summer to push away further. and you'll leave me a message just wishing i'd die. and i'd want to die. but no one died then. and so we must move on. mourn our losses and go on. the end. next chapter.
right back where we started. "September never stays this cold where i come from and you know, i'm not one for complaining. but i love the way you roll excuses off the tip of your tongue as i slowly fall apart." i'm falling apart. but that's okay, so are you. the end. next chapter.
i thrive on ambiguity. and the gleam of hope that you'll know what i mean.