|
# 8
The day I left
The wind blew four ways
It was one of those April winters
As my eyes scanned left to right
In the back of a hired car
A scarf you didnt knit tightened around my throat
As I toyed with the concept of tears
Of course, you always have been a modern girl
These April showers: they come and they go
Later I'll be dry eyed, and my face will be so cold
And I could cross a thousand rivers
And I wont look back at you even once
And my self conscious laugh, your cleaner smile
The way you straighten your ams
Away from your body
So coquettishly
It means what it means
Nothing else, a feeling, a moment
If it was love, now it isnt.
Later, I'll be hanging round the old place
Night time suits my mood
My face hooded from the prying wind
And my eyes fixed at the ground aggressively
Shuffling with uneasy bulky grace
Through the heart of these half broken walls
With a bottle of fortified wine
And a half hearted hand made into a fist
But you didnt do these things to me
I was like this before, during
And so after I'll be the same.
I dont know what you wanted
Happiness I suppose
But everyone does.
Send me an email
Tell me about the movies you saw
You want to see
That you would have seen with me
In some other place
Some parellel universe
Your cheek unthinking touching the side of my arm
Your elbow on my hip
And my heart on fire
And my eyes reflecting another soul
Tell me about your workmates
I'll hate the one's you hate
Just as well
But dont tell me about your new boyfriend
Too soon, it doesnt hurt
I just dont care.
Just these words to connect the two of us
In hotmail and yahoo
I keep the tone light
I could always make you life
With my recounts of some comic humiliation
That either really happened
Or I just make up.
I'm sat on an uncomforable chair
Feeling like Im swelling, like Im dying
Sodden with drink, surrounded by broken books
I've only half read
I've only one third written
Your hands placed together
As if in prayer
A flash of hair spinning
Pretty teeth... these things I remember
Listen, it doesnt really get to me
I think we did the right thing to
There is a part of me that misses
Us being together, and a part of me
That just misses you
But Ive never been the type
You expected that I'd be.
I can understand your reaction
To the uncertaintity in me
I know it was two thirds my fault
All the times I withdrew
Unneccesarily
Im sitting in an uncomfortable chair
Thinking of you
Writing about it
My left ear keeps hurting
Though it never bleeds
I wonder if my left hand
Touched you more times than the right
What a funny thing to think
You smiled in a funny way
When I told you how they caught me with my pants down
Jerking off into the fishpond at school one day.
I guess I couldnt place your ambition
In my scheme of things
I guess you couldnt understand my laziness
The way I will always say
Im unhappy, but keep doing the same God Damn things
Anyway.
There are things that I am careful of
I never send more emails
Than you do
I dont want to come across
Like Im obsessed or something
Even if I do miss you
I'll never say it
I'll never place you in a situation you need to be uncomfortable
About.
i suppose this is a song for parting
Set to no music
Full of words
That somehow seem only half meant.
I'll never tell you
The middle side of me.
The light and the dark, everyone can see.
And if you want to email me everyday
I'm not going to cry over you anymore
I'm not going to use a photography of you
As my desktop wallpaper
Just because I CAN
Ear still hurts,
Call me up
Im getting over you
I dont have to make up stories about other girls
Anymore, I dont need the self defence
Ive built around this fence
All draped in bulbs of garlic and ornate crosses
Not much point padlocking the gate
And making your birthday the combination
When my house doesnt have a roof.
We can laugh together
About the new guy at work who wears the same shirt all week long
And did I ever tell you
About he time they caught me with my pants down
Jerking off over the dinner plates?
My mumbled absolution
Trying not to slur the words
You laugh like a piano
Sounds when someone hits every key at once
It isnt that attractive
The more I think of it
You know.
__________________
Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned. - Buddha
|