At most 5 days in
I've started my search to find you
Though you are the best at this hide-and-seek
Not completely last, though I have no direct clues
She is my only link to what could be you
I feel a deep-seeded guilt
For how I pine for you
And though I suspect at what you feel
And have seen hints of what you think
I have no grounded proof that you hold love for me
And still I trust that my instincts are right
That I have a firm grasp on yours
And what I know to be yours on mine
So here I wait
For word of you to return
Or for my mind to draw me to madness
In which my search for you begins anew
And so here I wait
For either or to come
And all I can do now
Is let my mind whirl around you
'The puir auld folk at home, ye mind,
Are frail and failing sair;
And weel I ken they'd miss me, lad,
Gin I come hame nae mair.
The grist is out, the times are hard,
The kine are only three;
I canna leave the auld folk now.
We'd better bide a wee.
'I fear me sair they're failing baith;
For when I sit apart,
They talk o' Heaven so earnestly,
It well nigh breaks my heart.
So, laddie, dinna urge me now,
It surely winna be;
I canna leave the auld folk yet.
We'd better bide a wee.'
our first kiss was a promise,
a promise that shouldn't have been made in the first place.
it was just something we'd mentioned, wanted,
but never thought to follow through with.
it was meant to soothe the pain between us,
your body and my heart, or maybe the other way around.
but in the end, we were left with nothing
but the cigarette smell on your jacket
and the person i needed to crawl back to.
our second kiss was commisery,
both of us scrubbed raw and bleeding.
ironic, how we just rubbed salt in the wounds.
they say it makes it better but it always just hurts.
to keep the vomit out of our mouths,
we just kept them busy,
like somehow our state of mind would care
that we were in public and that shame doesn't mean
a lack of composure.
our third kiss was a compromise,
a final pinky-swear that maybe we won't off ourselves after all
[but promise you'll leave me a note if you do].
somehow we traded off pain,
and i shouldered your stories while you brushed off mine.
i told you i'd try to get it together,
you told me you'd try not to fall in love.
hopefully you kept your end of the bargain,
because at least one of us needed to.
stunningly bored and powerfully dumb
I bide I bide I bide my time for success
I lazily rove eyes over crappy photographs
and crappier stills from my memory
vivid photographs may line my walls
but day-to-day it does not feel vivid, not at all