Sometime I wish you’d call Just to tell me that you love me. There are days When I am so tired I feel I cannot breathe And those days I wish that you would lie to me Tell me that I’m beautiful And that you will never leave. Then there are the days I miss you most The times when my heart feels waterlogged and heavy And I wonder if you miss me at all Or if you just take me for granted The stolid, solid hands Always there to catch you if you fall. In some moments I feel you with me Hear your words Or the timbre and tone of your voice Exit my mouth And I stop in shock and dismay And my inner monologue pauses long enough to wish I could follow you and ask why you ran away. But I stop myself and the frantic panic of my thoughts I will not be that person Stalking the world as if it owed me something. Sometimes I close my eyes And hold onto the memories that haven’t yet abandoned me And wonder at the price we pay For being human. The way everything we do or say has it’s cost And everything we allow ourselves to dream Just means another chance at loss. The way life goes you start to wonder If caring might not be a crime And loving a sin You palms get so calloused from being nailed to those crosses That you just start leaving the nails in Questions build up A mental plague full of boils and sores As I wonder where I went wrong and if I can ever fix it That’s me, always swimming upriver with rocks in my pockets. Maybe there is no answer Hard as it might be to swallow But the decision about who sinks and who swims Might be as fickle as the weather Dependent upon nothing but luck and a whim. Sometimes I wish I could take my name back from your lips Hearing you say it might once have been sacred But pronounced like a stranger it just feels so profane. And I wonder to myself in the privacy of thought How what was once so at home Could have gotten so lost. It’s not your fault that I wanted more than you could give. I wanted someone to tell me that they loved me Like the world was ending tomorrow So I could pray for apocalypse. I was looking for permanence You just needed someone in that moment. I never was good at the flash-in-the-pan relationships I always burnt myself Or found out at the last moment That the pan I was using was completely non-stick. Saying goodbye is hard, it’s so hard And made harder when one person has already gone. You’re left saying goodbye Not to them but the places they’ve been And the things that remind you of them. A house with grey shutters and a broken porch step A film about nothing, about madness, about death You keep on going until there’s nothing left And you’ve emptied the bag into which you reminisced And the house is someone else’s And the movie’s just a classic And the love is just a feeling blown and dried And you add its frail-flower carcass to your hope chest One more thing you bring to your next attempt And you give up on the wait for apocalypse and instead you just pray for a rest.