Post by Laura on Oct 26, 2005 18:27:29 GMT -6
what colours do you draw yourself?
you won't be bloody alone
I know it's hard to form words from a falling mouth
but don't seem too hesitant
don't act so useless
it's harmless, this painting you've battered
tiny foot prints walking along a shore
are my waves crashing on you too hard?
I know it's difficult to deal with
emptiness and solitude
viciousness of reality and the violent winters
clamming to your frost bitten hands
I wish too, I wish I could be a cure
to your cancer, dear, you know I wish it
and acres of yellow ribboned pillow cases
all tied into a knot
gripping the wind and forming your feelings
if someone makes you pink, you should take it
and something, anything, will make you want to breathe
another breath from your broken lips
that crust at the edges from not speaking
and it takes everything to say
"dear, I believe I've given up"
all this has gone to waste but you're still here
all this and you still can't pull the plug
what do you dream of when you're asleep?
while I read old newspapers by your bedside
they tell me it's June, again
they tell me you're still not well
and I've been watching you die for 13 months
just when are you going to disappear?
you're haunting me while you're still here
fidgeting your fingers to pass the time
this pain is difficult but you put up with it
just to see if you'll still feel somewhat alive
and in these next few days, I'll still be there
drinking until I sober up again
the nurses tell me it's time, again
and I'm making arrangements
as you wither through your bedspread
and sink in deeper
if you find heaven there,
come back and whisper
tell me it's all untrue
pull the sheets up over your wrinkled face
you were young and they let you go
as you chained yourself to the dirt I said
I miss New York, too
you won't be bloody alone
I know it's hard to form words from a falling mouth
but don't seem too hesitant
don't act so useless
it's harmless, this painting you've battered
tiny foot prints walking along a shore
are my waves crashing on you too hard?
I know it's difficult to deal with
emptiness and solitude
viciousness of reality and the violent winters
clamming to your frost bitten hands
I wish too, I wish I could be a cure
to your cancer, dear, you know I wish it
and acres of yellow ribboned pillow cases
all tied into a knot
gripping the wind and forming your feelings
if someone makes you pink, you should take it
and something, anything, will make you want to breathe
another breath from your broken lips
that crust at the edges from not speaking
and it takes everything to say
"dear, I believe I've given up"
all this has gone to waste but you're still here
all this and you still can't pull the plug
what do you dream of when you're asleep?
while I read old newspapers by your bedside
they tell me it's June, again
they tell me you're still not well
and I've been watching you die for 13 months
just when are you going to disappear?
you're haunting me while you're still here
fidgeting your fingers to pass the time
this pain is difficult but you put up with it
just to see if you'll still feel somewhat alive
and in these next few days, I'll still be there
drinking until I sober up again
the nurses tell me it's time, again
and I'm making arrangements
as you wither through your bedspread
and sink in deeper
if you find heaven there,
come back and whisper
tell me it's all untrue
pull the sheets up over your wrinkled face
you were young and they let you go
as you chained yourself to the dirt I said
I miss New York, too