When I sleep
my mind recreates every bit of her
every freckle and every eyelash
and I dream and dream and dream
as if we were still together.
Each and every morning
it takes a dozen cigarettes
and a dozen books
and a dozen coffees
and one empty bed
to remind me that she
is not real anymore.
my mind recreates every bit of her
every freckle and every eyelash
and I dream and dream and dream
as if we were still together.
Each and every morning
it takes a dozen cigarettes
and a dozen books
and a dozen coffees
and one empty bed
to remind me that she
is not real anymore.
How is one supposed to move on
when they have no control
over a thing like that?
pristine and proper
When will you feel the pain of it all?
You look so put together
so pristine and proper.
You've got all the things that I'm drinking for.
Do I really mean nothing to you anymore?
I guess it doesn't matter,
and I should be stronger,
and I should be sober.
Well I was just a boy when we fell in love
so many years ago.
But did I not become a good man?
I wanted nothing less for you.
Was I not what you waited for,
in regards to whatever.
Now this city knows nothing of me,
and it knows you all too well.
I wish someone would tell me
that it'll all work out better.
I went out to walk off my drink,
and ignored the cigarette smoke
that left my lips and was gone forever
(like you)
Was I a cage to you?
But you seemed so bright
when you slid your little fingers between mine.
I wished you had said
please don't leave me,
and I wish you'd say please don't leave.
I wish I could hear you say my name
just one last time.
"I just need you, my river.
I just need you, my love."
well oh no, never.
well oh no, I tried.
You look so put together
so pristine and proper.
You've got all the things that I'm drinking for.
Do I really mean nothing to you anymore?
I guess it doesn't matter,
and I should be stronger,
and I should be sober.
Well I was just a boy when we fell in love
so many years ago.
But did I not become a good man?
I wanted nothing less for you.
Was I not what you waited for,
in regards to whatever.
Now this city knows nothing of me,
and it knows you all too well.
I wish someone would tell me
that it'll all work out better.
I went out to walk off my drink,
and ignored the cigarette smoke
that left my lips and was gone forever
(like you)
Was I a cage to you?
But you seemed so bright
when you slid your little fingers between mine.
I wished you had said
please don't leave me,
and I wish you'd say please don't leave.
I wish I could hear you say my name
just one last time.
"I just need you, my river.
I just need you, my love."
well oh no, never.
well oh no, I tried.
How can a man
love a woman who he claims has no soul
how can a man
love a woman who has hurt him so,
I don't know,
but i do i do i do.
fuck, I still do.
four fucking years
Well, I didn't think it would have ended like that.
But I suppose everyone imagines
why and where it is they're gonna die,
and if we are buried or if we fly.
It is never admirable when a young man
just simply can't move on.
And now I know you were the cowardly one.
I wish I had kicked that god damn door in,
finding both of you on the floor,
realizing your sweethearts a whore
really takes an immeasurable toll.
Darlin' you can bet you'll see my ghost,
and yeah it's true, I still dream about you
grinding my mouth and losing my teeth
you're exactly what a nightmares for.
Commonly I write more than I speak of love,
with sticks and stones and shattered bones,
But I still miss you
thats what funerals do.
I miss you when your sleeping
and I find it hard to eat
everything reminds me of your little ghost.
So don't you bleed out an apology
you'll always be a robber to me.
I was packing up my things like a bat out of hell,
and you were slowly slipping on your dress.
Hours before you were claiming you loved me
and hours ago you weren't home but you were fucking.
You seem so fine being away,
away from my body and away from my blood,
like a fire we never lit.
Now I'm looking west with the heaviest heart
that I can ever recall feeling,
and time is not the answer I want to hear
but it's the only answer I'll be givin'.
But I suppose everyone imagines
why and where it is they're gonna die,
and if we are buried or if we fly.
It is never admirable when a young man
just simply can't move on.
And now I know you were the cowardly one.
I wish I had kicked that god damn door in,
finding both of you on the floor,
realizing your sweethearts a whore
really takes an immeasurable toll.
Darlin' you can bet you'll see my ghost,
and yeah it's true, I still dream about you
grinding my mouth and losing my teeth
you're exactly what a nightmares for.
Commonly I write more than I speak of love,
with sticks and stones and shattered bones,
But I still miss you
thats what funerals do.
I miss you when your sleeping
and I find it hard to eat
everything reminds me of your little ghost.
So don't you bleed out an apology
you'll always be a robber to me.
I was packing up my things like a bat out of hell,
and you were slowly slipping on your dress.
Hours before you were claiming you loved me
and hours ago you weren't home but you were fucking.
You seem so fine being away,
away from my body and away from my blood,
like a fire we never lit.
Now I'm looking west with the heaviest heart
that I can ever recall feeling,
and time is not the answer I want to hear
but it's the only answer I'll be givin'.
Would Bukowski stop writing because a woman shattered his heart?
fuck no.
She writes a letter and sends it to him.
I think my minds made up. But I'm coming home late.
The weather was fine and the ocean was great
and I can't wait to see you again.
He reads the letter and throws it away.
"No one here cares if you go or you stay.
I barely even noticed that you were away.
I'll see you or I won't, whatever."
She sings a song as she bikes back home
and the rain falls from the sky,
the water looks bluer through her pretty eyes.
And everyone knows it whenever she flies.
He keeps his head up and walks through the street.
Every stranger and drifter he greets
and shakes hands with every loner he meets
with a serious look on his face.
She arrives safely with purse and bike in tow.
Carrying with her the good things he used to know,
like so many reasons to live
and reasons to grow.
But He sits alone on the hood of a car.
Without much regard to the moon or the stars.
Lazily killing the last of a jar
of the strongest stuff you can drink.
He gets home lucky to still be alive,
and walks up the sidewalk and into the drive.
The clock in the kitchen says 2:55,
(the clock in the kitchen is slow)
She has been waiting, patient and kind.
Just wanting a phone call or some kind of sign,
That the one that she cares for, who's out of his mind,
Will make it back safe to her arms.
He stumbles forward and leans in the door.
Weary head hung, eyes to the floor.
He says "Love, I'm sorry"
and she says
"What for? I'm yours and that's it, Whatever.
I should not have been gone for so long.
I'm your's and that's it, forever."
I think my minds made up. But I'm coming home late.
The weather was fine and the ocean was great
and I can't wait to see you again.
He reads the letter and throws it away.
"No one here cares if you go or you stay.
I barely even noticed that you were away.
I'll see you or I won't, whatever."
She sings a song as she bikes back home
and the rain falls from the sky,
the water looks bluer through her pretty eyes.
And everyone knows it whenever she flies.
He keeps his head up and walks through the street.
Every stranger and drifter he greets
and shakes hands with every loner he meets
with a serious look on his face.
She arrives safely with purse and bike in tow.
Carrying with her the good things he used to know,
like so many reasons to live
and reasons to grow.
But He sits alone on the hood of a car.
Without much regard to the moon or the stars.
Lazily killing the last of a jar
of the strongest stuff you can drink.
He gets home lucky to still be alive,
and walks up the sidewalk and into the drive.
The clock in the kitchen says 2:55,
(the clock in the kitchen is slow)
She has been waiting, patient and kind.
Just wanting a phone call or some kind of sign,
That the one that she cares for, who's out of his mind,
Will make it back safe to her arms.
He stumbles forward and leans in the door.
Weary head hung, eyes to the floor.
He says "Love, I'm sorry"
and she says
"What for? I'm yours and that's it, Whatever.
I should not have been gone for so long.
I'm your's and that's it, forever."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)