The grandfather clock in the hallway punctuates the darkest moments of my life
Not the plastic passing of time but the deep resounding timbre that you only find in proper clocks
Proper clocks with keys and not batteries, with brass faces and ornate hands.
With roman numerals and not numbers, chains and weights and wheels and chimes.
A sooundtrack lost in the hysteria of day that, but as darkness falls
it becomes the very essence of a sleepless night
.
.
Tick
.
.
Tock
.
.

Another day without you
means another day of waste
Another day to miss
the way your lips do taste

Another day without you
24 more hours gone
To wake up here without you
seems to make the day drag on

Another day without you
without hearing your voice
everything is background
undefinable white noise

Another day without you
meals eaten, nothing savoured
sitting alone at the table
facing food that has no flavour

Another night without you
a bed too big, the night too long
Another moment spent without you
can be nothing else, but wrong

Sometimes a wave of sadness
just washes over me
sweeping all my happy thoughts
right out there to sea

Leaving me awash
in a darkness of my own
I'd hoped this was a phase
by now I'd have outgrown

I don't know where it comes from
or when its on way
But depression always finds me
any time of night or day

And just as without warning
it comes, it goes away
and leaves me reeling and confused
to fight another day.

I write about religion
sometimes yours and sometimes mine
I write about the people
some still here some left behind

I write about my loves
some are living some are dead
I even write bout ***
on the floor and in the bed

And I write 'bout politicians
and the futility of war
and how their self serving actions
appall me to the core

I write about love
and I write about hate
the changing of the seasons
and how I'm always late

I write about ideas
that come into my head
what it feels like to be alive
and what if I were dead

I write about so many things
from different points of view
So for opening the floodgates
consider this write, a thank you.

Why is it when I look for you
you're nowhere to be seen
I can't do this without you
do you know just what I mean?

And other times you're with me
even if I travel far
At home sat on the couch
or when I'm in my car

Where do you go when you're not here
Do you go and see another
Will I find out you have been with them
when they tell about their lover

When they share the secrets of their soul
in words only you would use.
Is that when I will find out
what happened to the muse.

No matter what I do
I'm always running late
To be the last one to arrive
seems to be my fate

I try to get up early
set my alarm just so
But when the buzzer sounds
my body just won't go.

Its the same when I'm at work
like I have no concept of time
Things I expect to take an hour
always end up taking nine

Its not lack of respect
or anything so grand
see my internal hour glass
has a problem with its sand.

I think the sand got wet once
so it doesn't smoothly flow
and now you have to tap me
just to make me go

But I think I have the answer
The sand just has to dry
So I'm off to Bermuda
on a sunny beach I'll lie

My plane leaves at four thirty
got my ticket, know my gate
Arrived here four hours early
to make sure I'm not too late

As I walk up to the airline desk
to check in, get on my way
You're not gonna believe this
my flight left yesterday!!!

How does it feel to read this
and know that its all about you.

When you recognize the moments
what does it make you want to do?

Do you feel somehow betrayed
like your secrets have been shared

Or does it fill you with a certain warmth
to see how much I cared

Does it make you smile to yourself
because you know who its about

Or are truly terrified
in case someone finds out

Fear not for I will tell no one
it is my secret too

The only ones who know the truth
of this tale are me and you