"did they tell you your love is returned?"
I'm spoiled, I'm spoiled, I'm spoiled!
"too much of not enough"
metal rings pinched tight to hold marriage and medallion on a string
these beautiful faces, why can't I draw them? please, before they leave me
times like these are when I bite my fingers numb
I dreamed of daddy last night. we were back in the hospice, sitting at the back table near the window. daddy stood up across the room and made his way over on his own feet. what was he wearing? a white garb or his dress police uniform? I can't recall; my heart took a leap as I sat in place, watching from my own perspective. he stopped to hug chrissy and came to me. I blinked, and I saw myself lying in bed, a few specks of light shedding from my window. daddy leaned close to me and said, "did they tell you your love is returned?" my initial response was no, thinking instead of the word 'they,' he referred to himself. I said, "yes, but I didn't believe them." I told my dad every day multiple times I loved him as he lay unknowing in his hospice bed. he didn't return the statement. one night he told his sister, "I love you, margie." he told my mother, "I will love you forever." if I'm not mistaken, he said my sister's name once. I'm not going to lie: of course I wish he said my name or uttered a subconscious, "I love you." everyone told me, of course he loves you. I know he does. I just wanted to hear it from him, and I knew I wouldn't. in my dream, after my corrected response, he may have told me he loved me. I don't remember. it's nearly as upsetting as the fact that I have a hard time remembering his voice.
the chilling wind swept us from the stadium many a night as we made our way to the tt
and the same wind whispered as it rushed through the grass, weaving in and out of the blades until it found me
sleeping in the tall grass as a full moon watched hazily over us
"too much of not enough"
metal rings pinched tight to hold marriage and medallion on a string
these beautiful faces, why can't I draw them? please, before they leave me
times like these are when I bite my fingers numb
I dreamed of daddy last night. we were back in the hospice, sitting at the back table near the window. daddy stood up across the room and made his way over on his own feet. what was he wearing? a white garb or his dress police uniform? I can't recall; my heart took a leap as I sat in place, watching from my own perspective. he stopped to hug chrissy and came to me. I blinked, and I saw myself lying in bed, a few specks of light shedding from my window. daddy leaned close to me and said, "did they tell you your love is returned?" my initial response was no, thinking instead of the word 'they,' he referred to himself. I said, "yes, but I didn't believe them." I told my dad every day multiple times I loved him as he lay unknowing in his hospice bed. he didn't return the statement. one night he told his sister, "I love you, margie." he told my mother, "I will love you forever." if I'm not mistaken, he said my sister's name once. I'm not going to lie: of course I wish he said my name or uttered a subconscious, "I love you." everyone told me, of course he loves you. I know he does. I just wanted to hear it from him, and I knew I wouldn't. in my dream, after my corrected response, he may have told me he loved me. I don't remember. it's nearly as upsetting as the fact that I have a hard time remembering his voice.
the chilling wind swept us from the stadium many a night as we made our way to the tt
and the same wind whispered as it rushed through the grass, weaving in and out of the blades until it found me
sleeping in the tall grass as a full moon watched hazily over us