Monday, August 18, 2008

On My Way Home

It's nights like last I cannot shake
It's words like those you dare to speak
To measure up to what we lost
Christmas came and went like hate
But you raced to the place you could escape from
They were walking together
He wanted home, she wanted young ones
Wildly stamping their fists on his table
Burning, flaming, crazy ideas
Happiness does not run in the darkness
That vast empty space
Gasping in the way of your lungs
Full of those crazy ideas
You did not want to pull me out of a fire
My hands held the edge of your tall, skyscraper
And you looked at me like a younger you
With no love in your heart
For someone so misunderstood
And you said I love you
And you smiled when I fell
But like days, like nights, like hate and love
You walked away with no looking back
And my guts flew from me when I was crushed in my fall
Then blood stained your face from my battered skull
Don't look now

1 comment:

Unqualified said...

I'm still not gonna shut up. Gory poem youve got here. I like it
:-).... More Rachel! More!