i can't go on borrowing off someone else's time.
it's too much like his, not enough left of mine.
he still might come pick up where i leave off:
if it's dark enough nobody would know
except if you were to hear it when i cough
and watch how he put his hand to his mouth just as though.
tell him for me i appreciated the lift,
his patience and all, yeah that took a real gift.
it's not like i regretted having his address
for my own mail to get sent back to,
just it never was home and was usually rather less,
ok while it lasted but better now that it's through.
don't lay any of this down to his account;
he helped out with only the smallest amount,
a word or two here, a transition there,
and a spare set of keys to the place,
though i said all along i didn't much care:
his best mask never matched my worst face.
that old snapshot never looked all that much like me,
had all its scars out there for anyone to see,
but you know every room where i have been
and when he was here, with whom i hung around.
check back in there every now and again—
they might see for you where i might be found.
|
my tongue does its impression
of an indian summer sun to
a white chocolate snowman
revealing his almond heart
to the bite of my
brisk november
breath
|
you never leave marks that are permanent
only vague empty promises
as though random scratches, even so sent
like this like this like this like this
like this like this like this
there's rumors spreading how i'm damned by god
that judgment's entirely yours not his
the road to my hell is not quite so broad
like this like this like this like this
like this like this like this
i'm not blessed by what you call your love
i don't suffer from your prejudice
fill in the blank, here's what my dreams are made of
like this like this like this like this
like this like this like this
i've bloodstains on the sleeves of all my best shirts
what a nuisance cleaning up after you is
yet i'm the one accused, oooo that really hurts
like this like this like this like this
like this like this like this
funny i'm the one who's charged the crime
you kill me the way you always try to kiss
it cracks me open every time
like this like this like this like this
like this like this like this
|
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