Getting by

We wrote our own favorite songs,
on sheets of scrap. It wasn't long,
until we figured out we were a puzzle,
that would take the rest of our lives to complete.

The trash can was always handy,
if we ever drank too much.
We'd throw up some useless secrets,
and muttered apologies,
much too much.

Ripping out pages,
swallowing our words.
Its a burning sensation,
with the bourbon and curls of her hair.

Fiery eyed,
stand up straight and speak your mind.
Though you could never do both,
at the same time.

What an annoyance,
my Goddamned pain.
"I blame the father"
"get your words straight."

I drove for hours,
just cause I was alone.
It wasn't about you,
but you didn't know,
until you did.
And your still pissed.

Believe me I'm sorry,
for the very first time.
You were convenient,
when I wanted something on my mind.

I made myself a martyr,
like when I called you one.
The one I would suffer,
all I need is one.
Lately hasn't been much fun.

Give me your eyes,
and give me your pain,
blur into one,
fill up every page with mistakes,
I don't care.
Just the smell of your hair...
I hope you care,
what I am,
anywhere.

I know you're scared,
but its convenient you see.
There's notes on the ceiling
let them read us to sleep.

Knee bent on the bedside,
said, "its been a while."
Why don't you sit here with me,
its worth a try...

Reviews

[Dr. Wood ?]

well this is great...It seems as if you were well under the influence when you wrote it, but that would be impossible.....So much realism....Brilliant"

[Shimmerbliss/CAF]

I always enjoy your work, it is so full of melody and feeling. You have some absolutely wonderful imagery here and lines that are uniquely phrased. When I read this, as with your other work, I get a feeling of contemplation of life and choices, responsibilities, relationship, and a sense of looking back on the road you took. What I feel from the piece is difficult to explain, but it speaks to me.