|
Head down, hands in pocket
Collar up, against the wind
Fist clasped around your locket
Someone walked over my grave again
Broken thoughts; one syllable at a time.
The haunting lyrics of some forgotten rhyme;
Fragmented with the broken dreams of yesteryear
Learning to live again won't work here
Into the dying embers, I scream your name in vain
Echoes of my hoarse voice, driving me insane
The lonely sky painted with glittering diamonds
Covering me for the first of many nights
not to be spent in your bed
Part of the desert, part of the wilderness
Alone in the jungle we call the human race
Running it, without rhyme or reason, useless.
But every so often in the midst of a crowd,
I see your face
Jealous of what, your so called ghost?
Or do you mean envious of the freedom
That you chose when you left me behind;
Holding what was left of the rest of your life?
The engine purrs between my legs, driving
A lonesome stretch of a highway that I've seen too often
Trying to escapes the images seared in my memory
Of you, of me, finally the very end of our story
Coming to a halt at a roadside inn
Cheap rates for a rat infested motel bed
Old sheets stained with someone else's sin
Blood stained memories for pillows to put under my head
Watching you sleep, lying beside me in the shadows
Of my memories; I dream of all those missed tomorrows.
One careless word, phrased entirely the wrong way
So what was I, just another tart that you threw away?
Leaving I can't go, but dying I'll leave.
I want to hold the last of my memories
Talk to me sweet stranger of the dreams you'll weave
Nothing more than an illusion, lies only told to please
A faded memory of roses and infusion
The intersection where love and hate collide
Leaving me here empty, lying in a rotting forgotten bed
Wishing against hope, I was in your arms instead
Copyrighted
to the Shazriel Archives with the permission of Sharon
Coote, December 11, 2004
|
