this

.this.
…and I’m not sure what’s become of this. I feel like this is continuing from another part. As soon as I get myself back on track, this thing comes back again and starts breaking my heart. I thought I got away from the bastard of the moon and into the light of the new day. But then the phone rings and I hear his voice and somehow this is all back in my face.
I didn’t mean to reference again
I didn’t mean to fall back to when…this was all I needed.
I didn’t mean to hear this again.
I didn’t mean to see you again….

…and I’m not sure what to do about all this. I don’t really want to weight it all on just one more kiss. You don’t thrill me anymore. But still if you’re near me, this heart keeps on beating til it’s tired and sore. So I won’t reference anymore. I’ll return your bottle when I get up to your car door. And I won’t slam it anymore. So you won’t hear it. And I won’t hear it again….and we won’t fall back to when…

…this was all we needed

I’m not crying anymore tears. I have new songs to hear. I’m not tripping anymore. I’m tired of falling and landing face down on your floor. There are colors in the air that are flimsy and must be handled with care. I leave the house and my ears are filled with sound. It moves me to drive home past the place where all the plans come down. The earth looks so spooky where there is so much empty space. So I imagine his face.

And then we have …this.





2003.