2004-04-03 - 9:35 p.m.
i consist of broken stanzas and torn lines.
written while listening to "asleep at the wheel" - the wallflowers. on bus running back from new york. april being national poetry month. it is dedicated.
.linger.
our miles keep passing, my freedom is comfortably contained
and choices glow as headlights.
denial was always mutual and calming
because i never saw the same as you
yet heard the something behind the quiet boy.
it was lingering.
i was always a wallflower, pinned to my seat, never driving.
i hated conformity and decided
to never get off my round trip
you sat infront of me, always one seat ahead
and a glance too late.
they shine the light to test you so don't forget
to keep your eyes down, and your ticket in your back pocket
dont look too assuming,
but keep your feelings in tow.
its a hard scale to balance
it never seems to linger.
i started out tight and i think i've unraveled.
never to be tied by you.
our windows are tainted and broken in pieces
but closer than the street lights
i watch your eyes looking over old relations.
because they always linger.
i guess it was just chance that melded for a second.
timing was in vain and i had to look away.
i can't commit to looking or denial
im not sure i can even relate.
but i'll stay.
and i won't hurt you.
so whenever you need me
i can linger.
x
"i stood in the doorway staring blindly. i knew you were going to be the death of me. there's no medicine that could cure me right now. i don't want you to see me this way. air is growing colder. days are getting heavier. minutes turn to hours. hours turn to days. days turn to years. how much time do i really have? do i really care to know? what if i could have changed? would things be different? no matter what you got you want it. i was thrown was i deserve. we were lonesome - time spent well" - desert city soundtrack
