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-Gina

Though I live like an absentee, all I care about is that you reach me.

Do you miss the blend of color he left in your black and white field? Do you feel condemned just for being there?

Well, try to find a place to sleep. It’s going on days that we’ve been awake. A sadness that I’ve never seen. I said your name, and you looked the other way.

I have to believe in a world outside my own mind. I have to believe that my actions still have meaning, even if I can't remember them. I have to believe that when my eyes are closed, the world's still there. Do I believe the world's still there? Is it still out there?

It’s two a.m. and I’m drunk again, and it’s heavy on my mind. I could never love again, so much as I loved you.

I want to be a shower in the morning that wakes you up and makes you clean. I know I’m just the weather against your window as you sleep through a winter’s dream.

Where the flesh meets the spirit world, where the traffic is thin, I slip from a vacant view. I should have thought of that. And the sound of tomorrow, like a black-hearted vile thing, like the silence of tension.

In bed she flexes her knees to try and abate the feeling. She mouths the words “please” to the poster on the ceiling.

And these clocks keep unwinding and completely ignore everything that we hate or adore. Once the page of a calendar is turned it’s no more. So tell me, what was it for? Oh tell me, what was it for?

By now, by now, I'm sure you've heard. So you called me yesterday, but I had nothing to say. Message said I'm running out of time, so, so much for honesty. Because after all, you know you've won. Run, in another five months you'll be alone, and you'll drive around this empty town to places, to places we used to go.

I never really leave, just slip away. And it’s not my purpose to break your spirit. I’m not really interested in what’s in your heart. I don’t want to fall in love now, so please don’t start.

And so you say you’re glad it’s over, and you’ve never felt so clean and sober, and you wish me luck and four leaf clovers, darling you do, darling you do.

And the other night this guy came up to me downtown, and he can’t believe that after five years I’m still around. And he said, “wasn’t I the guy who walked these streets all night? It’s such a waste of time.”

I’ll close all my doors and only show you the black spots where my eyes once were.

If you don’t love this anymore, I hear that you’ve slipped again. I’m here because I know you’ll need a friend.

But all I have for the moment is a song to pass the time. A melody to keep me from worrying. Oh, some simple progression to keep my fingers busy, and words that are sure to come back to me, and they’ll be laughing, and they’ll be laughing. My mediocrity, my mediocrity.

At times, I feel turned around and upside down. Sometimes, maybe I drink too much. But, I mean, my heart’s still in touch.

I was young and restless then, living on the edge of a dream, when someone said: “C’mon, you just got to believe.”

You know that point in your life when you realize the house you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of a sudden even though you have some place where you put your shit, that idea of home is gone.

So I hear there’s a whole world out there, but I’ve grown to love this bed too much to leave it. If love really drives out fear, then I pray it’s her voice I’ve been hearing outside my door.

It’s like a dream you try to remember but it’s gone, when you try to scream but it only comes out like a yawn, when you trying to see the world beyond your front door.

Like I was saying, the look in the eyes of death was intoxicating. Taking it into your lungs, laughing at ourselves, where others would probably cry. And more importantly, I’d probably just die. Staring face to face with the demons and not back down. Takes a constitution that most people just don’t have. A life gets soiled with sex, drugs and rock and roll.

We all need mirrors to remind ourselves who we are. I'm no different.

I don’t give a fuck about your dignity. That’s the bastard in me. I know a girl who sells herself around, and I’m sure one day she’ll sign autographs in your town.

It was grass stained jeans and incompletes and a girl from class to touch. But you think about yourself too much, and you ruin who you love. Well, all these claims at consciousness, my stray dog freedom. Let’s have a nice clean cut like a bag we buy and divvy up.

We just might work out fine, because I love you enough to let you give the pain that I want. And when you do, I just might fuck you enough to love you.

As you try to find a source of light, and try to name one thing you like. You used to have a longer list, and light, you never had to look for it.

And I start attacking my vodka, stab the ice with my straw. My eyes have turned red as stoplights, you seem ready to walk. You know I’ll call you eventually when I wanna talk, until then, you’re invisible.

You took off your clothes, left on the light. You stood there so brave, you used to be shy. Each feature improved, each movement refines and eyes like a showroom.

Where have I landed? I don’t quite remember. I fell to pieces one night in December. Pictures in boxes remind me of something. I miss the days when our fingers were touching.

Well I lost my taste for the company of airports and cars, we flew through the year and avoided the dust and rock. We stood in the way of the tank until we got bored and we stopped, so never show doubt in your hand until you know what they got.

But it’s not so bad. You’re only the best I ever had, I don’t want you back. You’re just the best I ever had.

And language just happened it was never planned, and it’s inadequate to describe where I am in the room of my house where the light’s never been, waiting for this day to end.

I can’t keep up with the lovers on the street, I get my sunshine from the glow of my TV, I hear a waterfall is brimming in my eyes, you think I’m prettier, prettier when I cry. I can’t keep up with the singles on the scene, I get my kicks from a long-gone lonesome dream. I saw a waterfall is brimming in your eyes, you’re almost prettier, prettier when you lie.

He sits there smoking his breath away, he sits there choking on what they say, but I adore him. And I implore him, saying one of these mornings I’m going away.

Show me the skyline and I’ll show you decadence, a subtle reminder of hearts filled with loneliness.

You can just feel the details. The bits and pieces you never bothered to put into words. And you can feel these extreme moments even if you don't want to. You put these together, and you get the feel of a person.

I know this is ridiculous, that’s just like me. Make the most of living while you’re young and have the chance to take your chances. Fuck regrets and let’s burn this city down.

“Apologies are all we’ll ever be,” she said. Standing on the stairs, looking back, looking hard at me. “Well, life is long for those who have to wait,” I said. The choice I had to make.

And what do you do? You laugh. I’m not saying you don’t cry, but in between you laugh and you realize how silly it is to take anything too seriously. Plus, I look forward to a good cry, it feels pretty good.

And so we travel in separate directions with nothing to hold on to. And you complain about the way things are. You say you want something new, but you’re lost to me, your lost to me. I’m not sorry.

You say that you’ve changed, it’s clear you’re not the same, you’ve rejected what you know.

So what if your dreams came true, and what if I told you, you could love like you used to? And what if my fares come true, what if I never more beyond this broke state, beyond this static place, beyond this stale me. This stale me.

But when I call you on the telephone you apologize and put me right on hold, talk about a metaphor. Let’s talk about you some more, let’s talk about you some more.

Come into my bed, I’ve got to know you, know you. I have dreams of orca whales and owls, but I wake up in fear. You will never be my, you will never be my dear friend.

Last night I swore I heard you call my name, called through my window, took my hand and stole me away, went to the drive-in, speeding like a runaway train. Woke up and smelled your scent in the morning rain.

I wish I’d see your face below, I wish I’d hear you whispering low, but you don’t live downtown no more, and everything must come and go.

Well, I say come for the week. You can sleep in my bed. And pass through my life like a dream through my head. It will, it will be easy. I’ll make it easy.

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