Gray like morning.

 

Do I taste like the rain that falls lightly on a tin roof?

Do my tears hang heavy with crystalline sugar, refined and undetectable?

Does my hair smell like a empty corridor, once alive with laughter now fallen silent?

When you see me now, are you seeing the scent of wild honeysuckle and does that strand of pearls remind you faintly of the smile i once wore for you?

I’ve been rearranged. What once was right is upside down and everything that was now never existed

. My head is in my chest, my heart left with the regret and now everything is grey like morning.

Still Dying

I am still dying with each passing day.

I lack feeling, both in my heart and upon my lips. This new scent has woven its way through my hair and I despise it because it’s not yours. The lack of chemicals on your skin was the warmest scent I’ve ever known.

It’s been some time since we’ve spoken; the quiet growing with each passing day. 

It’s deafening, it’s disheartening, it’s disarming. 

There may be a day when you’ll fall back into love and it will find you a better man, but me, I’ve been keeping my distance from the edge. I’ve tried and tried again to remove myself from this bruised memory, but what has fuzed, will remain. There will be no escaping you, my dark and melancholy friend. There will be no rest for you, oh eyes of mine. There is nothing to see. Your face is gone but your spot still remains.

Empty

Ray Lamontagne
Empty

She lifts her skirt up to her knees
Walks through the garden rows
With her bare feet laughing

I never learned to count my blessings
I choose instead to dwell
In my disasters

I walk on down the hill
Through grass grown tall
And brown and still
It’s hard somehow
To let go of my pain

On past the busted back 
Of that old and rusted Cadillac
That sinks into this field 
Collecting rain

Will I always feel this way
So empty
And estranged?

And of these cut throat busted sunsets
These cold and damp white mornings
I have grown weary

If through my cracked and dusty 
Dime store lips 
I spoke these words out loud 
Would no one hear me?

Lay your blouse across the chair
Let fall the flowers 
From your hair 
And kiss me
With that country mouth
So plain

Outside the rain is tapping
On the leaves 
To me it sounds like
They’re applauding us
The quiet love
We’ve made

Will it always feel this way
So empty
So estranged?

Well I looked my demons in the eyes
Lay bare my chest
Said do your best
To destroy me

I’ve been to hell and back
So many times
I must admit
You kinda bore me

There’s a lot of things
That can kill a man
There’s a lot of ways
To die
Yes, and some already did
And walk beside me

There’s a lot of things
I don’t understand
So many people lie
It’s the hurt I hide that fuels
The fire inside me

Will I always feel this way
So empty 
So estranged?

Call Me On Your Way Back Home - Ryan Adams

Is it the end yet?

Wilco’s rendition of Daniel Johnson’s sweet tune, “True Love Will Find You in the End.”

Where is this true love? Maybe it got lost looking for me.

“True Love Will Find You in the End”

True love will find you in the end
You’ll find out just who was your friend
Don’t be sad, I know you will,
But don’t give up until
True love finds you in the end.

This is a promise with a catch
Only if you’re looking will it find you
‘Cause true love is searching too
But how can it recognize you
Unless you step out into the light?
But don’t give up until
True love finds you in the end.

Acorns

Yesterday, I looked up at the Oak tree in my square and saw it had formed acorns. I was reminded then that everything changes with time. Seasons, faces, hearts. And even though things change, there will always be little reminders of where we came from. Little pieces of a former life that will resurface again and again and again. 

With this new knowledge I found peace with myself. For weeks I have been scolding myself for thinking of you, of things I can’t change, of the beginning and the past. Now, I see that not even nature, one deprived of a heart, can refuse that.

 

A Dream within a Dream

A Dream within a Dream

~ Edgar Allen Poe 

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet, if Hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it, therefore, the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

a home for words

Your words still use my ribs as springboards, my eyes as wading pools, my lips as ferris wheels and my heart as bait.

They still pace the walls of my heart, wearing paths down into it, making creases where kisses should be.

 You words, so few and so honest, still reside inside my hollow self.

I am:

I saw

that you’re back up on M____.com. I guess it’s official. I’m heartbroken and feel ill every time I think of you kissing someone else’s pair of lips, holding someone else’s hand, and sharing your dreams with someone new. 

Oh, how the tables have turned. How I wish I had realized the weight of my insecurities and how I wish I had let them go so much sooner. I hate this feeling. It’s one of regret, heartbreak and disappointment both in myself and how we are. God, don’t let this be it. 

 

I really wish I had a plate that needed returning.