DREAMS OVERCAST
peeking through my blinds i
realize it's still overcast
weather report had said "sunny,"
not "partly cloudy" or
anything like it
but that's just the thing:
forecast ain't fact
i thought of you and the way you
yanked the screen from my window
pulled rugs out from underneath me
it's not your fault, though, i
wanted you to
at 12 midnight it became your birthday your
breath smelling faintly of wine, of breakfast bacon, of
someone else's sweat
my door slammed closed and, though drunken,
i knew you'd find your own ride home
i don't know why i do this, Kid--
why i peek through blinds and it's still overcast
why
sometimes for all the hippie that i am i can't quite
let go of old ideas
why i love the whole world for being so sweet, swelled over, saucy,
why i accept tom, dick and harry where they are
but can't forgive my mom for her slammed doors
and dad for his foul mouth
years on in since they've become more soft 'round the edges
don't know why i can't forgive myself
why i can't quite bring myself to return your phone calls
why i still blame ghosts
'stead of creating angels
when, at the onset,
all's i wanted was to stare, doe eyed into your
soul so precious
5 24 03
be
peeking through my blinds i
realize it's still overcast
weather report had said "sunny,"
not "partly cloudy" or
anything like it
but that's just the thing:
forecast ain't fact
i thought of you and the way you
yanked the screen from my window
pulled rugs out from underneath me
it's not your fault, though, i
wanted you to
at 12 midnight it became your birthday your
breath smelling faintly of wine, of breakfast bacon, of
someone else's sweat
my door slammed closed and, though drunken,
i knew you'd find your own ride home
i don't know why i do this, Kid--
why i peek through blinds and it's still overcast
why
sometimes for all the hippie that i am i can't quite
let go of old ideas
why i love the whole world for being so sweet, swelled over, saucy,
why i accept tom, dick and harry where they are
but can't forgive my mom for her slammed doors
and dad for his foul mouth
years on in since they've become more soft 'round the edges
don't know why i can't forgive myself
why i can't quite bring myself to return your phone calls
why i still blame ghosts
'stead of creating angels
when, at the onset,
all's i wanted was to stare, doe eyed into your
soul so precious
5 24 03
be
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
escapegoat:
at one point in this lifetime i had dreams
joyrider:
it's tough to let go of the game. we've been playing it for so long that even when you see it for what it is it's hard to just walk away.