Everyday...
How is it that you still live in my soul?
What is this hold you still have on my heart?
So many memories, all good and bad at the same time...
all the lonliness, all the things I should remind my self
about, but don't. It's too easy to forget.
It's easier.. isn't that what it's really about?
It's easier.. to look at yourself in the mirror every day,
that's not the real you, that's the steam distorting who
you really could be. What you could achive, what you could
have what.. what you hope you'd never be, but there you are...
there you are...
Everyday...
You smile even when you don't want to. You shake hands on the
phone. You wait for something better to come your way...
hopeing. Life is too short for hopeing.
Everyday...
is different. But yet, doesn't it sometimes feel the same?
What's changed? The feelings are still there... the thoughts
that come to mind, even when I'm trying to make them not come
to mind.
Everyday...
I grow a little more... up and out... clutching to the only
thing I know for sure, even when I'm not so sure.
Clinging to a dream that's not real... not really real...
things are rarely what they seem.
Everyday...
things grow cold and hot... who's the water faucet now?
How's that light switch, the pressure cooker, the slow
cooker? The boiling water on the stove? The ice in the freezer?
The sweat on the beer in your hand, but not in your heart.
Everyday...
things get a little better, and a little worse. You think about
things that should leave your heart, your head, your want...
You lay your head down every night, and sometimes before your
eyes close you think of it... of what it was, and what it could
have been, but never, ever of what it could be... there is
no could be. What do you dream about?
What do you see when you close your eyes?
Do you remember? Does a song play for only you?
Everyday...
You had that go-around, and it came and went. There
really is nothing left but a failure you can't get past,
a future your not sure of, a shoulder you can't cry on...
Sometimes doing nothing is worse than doing something.
Wheither it's wrong or right.
Everyday...
You move on... you seperate yourself, you branch off...
Being strong is too hard. Waiting is even worse.
Waiting.... tick-tock, tick-tock... more hours pass
and words that should be said, slowly fade into nothingness.
Why is it so hard to say?
Why is it so hard to justify why, in your eyes?
How could I know, what... when I can't utter a sound?
When I can't let go...
can't let it go... have to let it go...
Everyday... it's just the way it should be.
Everyday.

¶ 6/08/2005 11:09:00 PM