in two parts divided, but the same.
whichever suits you.
things i wanted to say
small wonders of why
for things that never came
i still find strands
of her hair in bed
let me count all the pieces
the first time
i saw you
unsung stories waiting
we sometimes caught each other
they only gave me trouble anyways
dreaming away tomorrow
they had been expecting me
looking for something that is not there
a secret sometimes already warm bed
to call home
the world through a filter so thin of you
this is all so skinny,
lets put some meat on these bones.
There were things I wanted to say
, all these endless around small wonders of why
. Watched the world roll by for us, slow letting it sink down. Now here I am just keep waiting for things that never came
. I like it that way.
There was a time before that still calls in dreams, all distant fading memories, yet as if to prove maybe not I still find strands of her hair in bed
. Better to start from the very beginning, it might be easier that way. I could tell so many little stories, let me count all the pieces
lying here. The first time I saw you
so clear unsung stories waiting
like promises of forever.
Pulling close and then back, understand the changing outside that we thought was inside we grew. Slipping quietly or out loud alone together we sometimes caught each other
. Other times, it was too late.
Time softened me. Among them I learned to understand silence
, that there are still more hidden wonderful sometimes in this forever. It could not last, which was alright they only gave me trouble anyways
. Easier to appreciate finding yourself from a distance, afterwards not while. They were always pushing that way. Too much, when only a little was good. That was today, yesterday will be dreaming away tomorrow
. Because I can. Called it all off abrupt silent, they had been expecting me
I never came home. Decided to pull away before it got too complicated, before I understood too much. My time now spent looking for something that is not there
, easier to hide truth from yourself when you are not looking for it. Perhaps only missing this moment a secret sometimes already warm bed to call home
. Better to not. Might remind me of things I thought settled clean, the kind that never really are. How it was even more clear, dark thick then light again the world through a filter so thin of you