domingo, 19 de maio de 2013

The Woods


It appears I have stumbled really far into the woods,
The owls I thought were fascinating seem vicious.
The deer no longer come close, and stand their ground.
From afar I see the buffalo's gaze.

Its cold and I know I ignored your warnings to bring a coat.
I have leaches and I ignored your warnings to bring boots.
Indeed I have ignored all your warnings.
The cigarettes have run out, the batteries are running low, and my heart pays a price.

I sat down by a tree and counted how many pictures of you there were left.
I laid my foot by a small frog and tried to visualize the things we've seen.
I think I just needed a memory, some comfort.
Maybe a glass of milk to sleep a little better.

And when I go home, will I still be the same man?
Will I still bring you fireworks instead of flowers when I come to visit?
Will I still have strength in my bones to lift tears off your face when things go wrong?
Will we still laugh and feel safe even when we walk out of loves room and shut the doors...?

I picked some berries, and gathered some twigs.
I drank what was left of last nights rain water,
Tried to promise my soul this would be the last night.
But we both know that isn't true.

Sister, please come pick me up.
I can't remember historical facts or politics, or what I ate last night.
And I'm afraid of growing old
So I think I might just need a familiar shoulder to cry on.

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