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Untitled For July

Contributed by spreadyourwings on Monday, 5th September 2005 @ 12:48:04 AM in AEST
Topic: LostLove

We said goodnight
But I think we knew we wanted to say more
Because on nights that end like these
We have made them the blackest
And not even morning herself could change it
I could stay up all night and day just thinking about him
Good thing my sleepy eyes don’t agree
You are the light of day
The voice of the hurting
The pain in each smile
I keep wanting to say those words
But when I look around, he’s not there
Who else am I to blame?
These broken words? These broken minds?
I can’t help but say that no one else is like him
Though, so selfishly I wish I could.
And those are the days I can feel so fragile
So lonesome without him
Without his face, his lips, his beauty
It is in conclusion that I’d rather be submerged
Than have this broken heart
Memories can kill you more than any knife or gun
He has no idea how much I miss his city
I never told him I loved him
Nor will I ever
Because these phases of oblivion are never-ending
I’m not content with these nights of longing
I need his words, his touch, his eyes
It is in the feeling to try and keep what I never had
Fight for one more hello, just one more goodbye
He does not know that such pain like this exists
And I hope he never does
Because he is as beautiful as each sunrise, each sunset
Perhaps more I believe
And my soul’s sky would be forever gray if he ever did
His love does not belong to me
Such pain, such agony that twists up inside me
And burns through every opened map
It is what keeps me up when the moon is hanging low
And the distance tears at every sign of hope
This destruction happens at every new skyline
I curse these thoughts that have stretched each mile to its fullest
And brought me down to a state which I have lived in too long
I cannot forget him, cause if I did I’d surely die
In the belief that no perfection has ever existed
He is my comfort, my haven from despair
Yet then he is my sadness and the salt in each tear
His voice is the breath that I so desperately gasp for
I choke on the lament I live with each day
He is worth it, I promise he is
It is not I, who deserves such elegance and beauty
But who needs the blackest skies, shriveled moon, and forgotten face

Copyright Â© spreadyourwings ... [ 2005-09-05 00:48:04]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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