I am cut. You say you understand; yet twist the knife in my gut. Answer me if you can.. How deep does it go? How do I stop the pain? Tell me if you know. An open wound; the blood flows as rain. I try to carry on. Sometimes I think it clots.. My mind tries to accept that you are gone; a fleeting moment before you enter my thoughts. In the dark your face greets me; haunting. Wake up in fits and roll out of bed on bent knee. A vision of you with another constantly taunting. A love too costly; it's true the best things in life are free. Sleep is one but it seldom comes. Awaken and don this mask to transform; march to the beat of a dead man's drums. To this life I cannot conform. Forged grin veils pain that consumes. Behind it the world can't see me unfold. "Time heals all wounds." What a cruel joke! This just grows old! Drag through the day and dread tomorrow. You seem to be fine. What is your secret? Do you have any sanity I could borrow? God knows I need it. Dusk to dawn, these dreams they tarry; try to sleep to no avail with heart full of worry. Life without you is just so scary. I'm running out of breath in deep water so please hurry. A missing piece to the puzzle that is me. Hour after hour we put it together. No one else will fit so I can't set you free. The rain is cold and coming down hard. This is terrible weather. To whom else with these things can I confide? I'm already soaked .. But, it's not too late to call me inside. I see you there! A new hope evoked. It causes my heart to leap. You are so near. With joy, I start to weep. I scream your name. Yet, you act as if you are in a deep sleep. I make sure that my voice is clear; try again but still you stare blankly at me as if a stranger. All my sorrow and fear, abruptly come to a halt and compound into anger... I head back into the storm blending my tears with the rain. It is as if you have died. Walking away I don’t feel the same. I can't bring you back no matter how I've tried. Never thought it would be this way but I digress. I have prayed and begged and given my best. I turn around to leave these wet flowers on your steps, not to win you back but to lay you to rest. |