My baby is gone...
Moving through hands, like a deck of cards
Always face down
Seeing the creases in the sheets
I dream they move like waves
I almost feel free again
I miss falling
Saying love in every language
I hate learning that death sounds just as beautiful
Roll the R’s until you can hear the ache
Your own voice crack
You never even have to say my baby’s gone.
He says we aren’t right.
Just another form of intimate strangers
My opinion defers once again
I loved him, with all that I had
With all that I knew
I don’t care who says it was not enough
For a while it meant more than life and that was enough
I don’t breakdown anymore
Yet I’m still reminded
His language echo’s in my ears
Until I sigh
I try to find new relevance
Solace in another’s arms
Peace within only one man’s hands
But envy pushes me between so many sets of sheets
I have no love
And there is none to be made
Is it crime to long?
Or to be too weak to hold out?
I need the fantasy
I have to hold on to the ethereal
The past may not burden me!
I still want to float!
I still want to float…