vineri, 26 aprilie 2024

Home

 

Sitting on a black couch in the dress you never bought

As you go to that one wedding all alone, 'cause you forgot

I was pictured as "the loved one" and all the paint used was mine

Used to sing for you in your bed when you were my favorite line.


Looked up at the sky, holding you into my arms

Praying "please, God, make it worth it" through my tears that shot as guns

And you couldn't feel my pain until it turned to post mortem

Tried to count your sins and fix them, but you're struggling to hold them.


All the black paint in your house couldn't cover all these bruises

I was your most precious treasure, meanwhile you ran out of muses.

Tried to find the biggest prize, but you lost me on the way

Couldn't even find yourself, spinned in circles every day.


Couldn't change the prophecy, despite bargaining my soul

I tried everything I could and I'm left with letting go.

Tried to help you reach my love, it was too high, as it seemed

Climbed down to you on my own and my light is now so dimmed.


Now you want to bring me breakfast, you forgot to pick me up

When I tried to talk to you you just wanted me to stop

Walked myself home, I'm still going, not so sure where "home" now is

I just hope I'll find myself after healing from all this.


luni, 8 aprilie 2024

December

 

You kept me in a snow globe with the first snow of December

Spinned me around, so cold, we danced, it was all good, remember?

The same old bar, we got some shots, I knew your favorite spot.

The one you probably now hate is our last parking lot.


But if you knew, would you have listened? Looked at me while I was Still there?

Or hugged me tighter? Paint a glisten in my saddest ever stare?

Would you love me a bit better? Would you care like others did

when I wanted YOU the closest and you acted like a kid?


Would you envy my own lyrics or would hate the gifts I made?

Would your friends still think you're stupid? Would you ask me on a date?

Would you make me write my love or wear my grief like a medal?

At the end, would we begin? Would I still step on the pedal?


Would you take me to December?