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A place to put my secret complex thoughts hidden by the scramble of everyday life.
Sunday, December 26, 2004
Right now
not to my right
but to my left
is my ghost
he sings
to me
chases kisses towards me
pushing and prolonging
the one week
a year
we get to feel like this
instead of longing
driving alone
Yearling
my darling
my silhouetting darling
who is in the back of my mind
rewinding
me to the times
when
I was fine
He says I make him whole
better
in letters
making him postally
crazy
but redeeming
time
spent
to repent
lost time
but producing future rhymes
lyrical genius
but no ones ever seen us
the way we are behind closed doors
on hardwood floors
with fireplaces burning
souls churning
fueling me
renewing me
I am his favorite song
I am a melody
that seeps inside him
Knows his spirit
not to my right
but to my left
is my ghost
he sings
to me
chases kisses towards me
pushing and prolonging
the one week
a year
we get to feel like this
instead of longing
driving alone
Yearling
my darling
my silhouetting darling
who is in the back of my mind
rewinding
me to the times
when
I was fine
He says I make him whole
better
in letters
making him postally
crazy
but redeeming
time
spent
to repent
lost time
but producing future rhymes
lyrical genius
but no ones ever seen us
the way we are behind closed doors
on hardwood floors
with fireplaces burning
souls churning
fueling me
renewing me
I am his favorite song
I am a melody
that seeps inside him
Knows his spirit
