A blank page
A room full of empty space
They talk but all I can only hear your voice
The music plays but I sing your favorite songs
I keep hearing the phone
And picking it up, waiting for it to be you.
I hear their sorrys
I feel their wounds
I can taste the death
But I can’t get to you.
I close my eyes
And fight the fear
The knots are in my stomach
This is all too real
My legs are weak
My strength is thin
I just want one more chance to see you again.
I hear their sorrys
I feel their wounds
I can taste the death
But I can’t get to you
A Screeching halt
I lay awake and cry
They giggle in the bathroom
I sink in the back house
Help me breathe again
I hear their sorrys
I feel their wounds
I can taste the death
I want you to linger
But I can’t get to you.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
This is so powerful, Justine. It's beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThe last two verses [including the chorus] are absolutely beautiful.
ReplyDelete