Month: December 2015

I wish I could escape from “me” like you can

If only that were an option we both could have

I could also take a break, have a fling or maybe two

Go here and there, be this and that, have worlds where there’s no you (“me”)

Then come back, share some love and run away when things get dark 

I wish she didn’t live inside of me all day and night 

If only you could be as loving and caring when she attacks

I really wish to redirect my focus, energy and love 

It’s not “one more of my dreams”, I’ve been trapped in this nightmare all along 

You’ve forgotten me, the real me 

My last reference is now gone

I only wish to wake up 

All I want is to start over 

I’m trying to move on 

Please let me go 

Please let me go 

When will I begin
To live again?
One day I’ll fly away
Leave all this to yesterday
What more could your love do for me?
When will love be through with me?
Why live life from dream to dream
And dread the day when dreaming ends?
– Joe Sample

It must be nice to be wanted times two
And here I was thinking you finally grew
Suddenly I don’t find you so appealing
That bit of clarity was so revealing

I don’t know what was I so scared to miss
I can see now that there is no abyss
You must think it’s harmless, playing with Cupid
Poor little girl, your new teacher, so stupid

For every picture you send me I think
This one I’m sure he also sent to that twink
I really try to let go and dismiss
I just can’t see myself getting past this

The whole thing smells rotten
I’m sick of your face
Good times are forgotten
You just fell from grace

I too have wings and they’re spreading away
And unlike you, my decisions do weigh
I’m not your spare bitch, on call, at your mercy
Call her instead when you’re choosing a jersey

Enjoy your February, enjoy your March
I’ll wait for April? Yeah, right. Sit and watch!
It must be nice to be wanted times two
Don’t get so used to it, I’m fucking through

I’ve been enjoying intermittent moments of clarity. My mind is clear for a while and I can see things for how they actually are. It hurts a little less to see reality: the end is the beginning, it’s the end.

 

*I can sing again.