Another

[loveischemicals]

You know very well this fleeting feeling,
the flying of freezing wind
over your skin,
or the caress of someone
you love, leaving,
or the way you still look at me,
in the back of my mind.

I've been here. I am here.
The whole time,
I've waited, brooded, pondered:
Perhaps there is a second chance,
a third chance,
more room for improvement,
for change?

I won't lie:
for as long as I've been on my own
I've felt alone. So alone.
Greeting the day to work
my hands down to the bone,
just to own what I own.

I am not good looks. I am not a fast car.
I am not suburban wasteland
white picket fence.
I am not financial meltdown. I am not holocaust.
I am not a dynasty
living to perpetuate a nightmare.

All I wanna do is smoke, and
drink, and dream of you.
Write of you.

When I think of you:
I imagine a pearl, hidden, deep;
Your hair falls softly as you sigh in sleep;
And yet, here I am, not part of those dreams --
It's true, the jealousy is almost overwhelming --
but what does it take?

It takes a man with a heart. It takes a man of stone.
Whether the sky is fire, pyroclast raining down upon us;
or whether it's ice, devouring all life and
leaving us void, cold;

It doesn't really matter, does it?
Because there is no such thing
as a natural disaster --
compared to you.