Since I've touched you
I've begun to live in silence
because the music just reminds me
of all the things
I haven't got
Makes me wonder if I'm greedy
When all I am is needy
Of anything remotely sane
and ready to take on a burden
from my heart
or to cast it away when I could not
Because those wounds define me now
Those scars are my storybook.
I slip your picture into my mental scrapbook
-- you know I'll never look again
Unless I find one more thing to tape down
to the pages
that were once my mother's
and used just as much.
Not at all.
The corners are bent from when I pocketed it
so long ago
Thinking that I'd know you now
Better than before
But we're drifting
and we're sailing
and we're parting paths to different lives
I knew it couldn't last for ever
even if I tried
Because I have, and what has become of it?
Nothing but omittance of the facts
that I could've done better with
done better knowing
if only for the sake of knowing
Because in my end, all I've got are my fading memories
locked up behind my eyelids
dancing on the surface just as I fall to sleep
Whose embrace is cold but careful
and treats me like a glassy star
I hung on my summer Christmas tree.
--Summer Christmas Tree II or Long Time Coming