I Have None
Where do the years and the time go?
And what of the friends?
Throughout the years I have given pieces of myself to this person, that person, so many people... and now there's nothing left for me.
I have walked yards, driven miles, and flew countries to try to regain the parts of myself lost to others but have been unsucessful.
When I gave you that piece of me, what did you do with it?
Did you roll it around your tongue, push it against your teeth, suck the sweetness from it, then spit out the remains?
Did that piece of me mean anything to you?
It meant something to me.
It still does.
The days I think to call you but lose my nerve fearful that you have forgotten me,
The nights that I cry alone in strangers' basements because all the people I know have no room or time for me,
Those moments weigh on me in sleep and in consciousness.
They mean something to me, those moments that you never even recognize but that shape my existence.
Surprise me though.
Tell me there's still a reason to have faith.
Tell me that you do remember, me and those times.
Give me some type of hope, because after all these years, I have none.
Not a poem really... just some words...
And what of the friends?
Throughout the years I have given pieces of myself to this person, that person, so many people... and now there's nothing left for me.
I have walked yards, driven miles, and flew countries to try to regain the parts of myself lost to others but have been unsucessful.
When I gave you that piece of me, what did you do with it?
Did you roll it around your tongue, push it against your teeth, suck the sweetness from it, then spit out the remains?
Did that piece of me mean anything to you?
It meant something to me.
It still does.
The days I think to call you but lose my nerve fearful that you have forgotten me,
The nights that I cry alone in strangers' basements because all the people I know have no room or time for me,
Those moments weigh on me in sleep and in consciousness.
They mean something to me, those moments that you never even recognize but that shape my existence.
Surprise me though.
Tell me there's still a reason to have faith.
Tell me that you do remember, me and those times.
Give me some type of hope, because after all these years, I have none.
Not a poem really... just some words...