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this is quite personal
The Haunting
Wet leaves whisper in the wind
They all speak your name
In the half dark this ugly moon gives
It could be your blood or mine
That's covering these hands
The sharp bark of a mobile phone
Infilitrates the night
Cuts off again, my eyes scan the ground
I grib my house keys
Around my fist and grit my teeth
Lately I've felt underawed
Lately I've felt like Ive been ignored
Oh mother, the smell of sweat
And talcum powder, you used to play guitar
Did I ever rell you
You were never any good
I really want to tell you
You were never any ****ing good.
Playing your silly hippy songs
Silly drunken cow, go down
Another bottle of fizzy white wine
Youre no ****ing use to me now
I never loved you, on the day that you die
I will cry and feel guilty
Thats all I can offer you.
My salvation, my blue tinted rope
Hangs from the rack in the garage roof
at the bungalow on Bell Lane
I'll make two nooses
And wrap each around a fist
And sneak up behind you
On a cold lonely country lane one night
And spin and bite and twist
What goes around
Always falls to the ground
One day
Im bigger than you than these days
And stronger than I was
My anger I internalised
It could break without a ripple
Or I could just walk right past you
And not give a ****
I dont really need any letters
Saying how sorry you are
I dont give a **** anymore
What you did to me you cant make better
And what you have taken
You cant give back
if you want to make yourself feel better
You can do it on your own
I told you that
The same day you told me
You would forget you had a son
And burn all the pictures
Because you hated me
Well, you still carry around this picture
Of me aged seven, smiling
At a boating lake
So I guess you were lying
And Im not all burned after all
But what do I care anymore?
I told you when you said it
Dont ever change your mind
Because when you say what you say
It is said, and there is nothing anymore
Im not so cold
But cold enough
You wont see anything but ice
I came back once
And left again
The best that happened in my life
Was you cutting me out of your life
The opart of me that haunts you
Is not attached anymore
Its that stumbling, uncertain
14 year old boy
If you meet him on a dark night
He might lash out
or most likely run
It doesnt mean anything
It doesnt mean anything to me
I hate a lot of things
Its not special anymore
__________________
"Do not tell lies, and do not do what you hate,
for all things are plain in the sight of Heaven. For nothing
hidden will not become manifest, and nothing covered will remain
without being uncovered."
The Gospel of Thomas
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