You don't miss the water untill the well runs dry,
sometimes I miss the well.

My beautiful sad song
melody knows my soul by now
must of sang it a thousand times
over a thousand miles
and endless trials.
The heaviness of verse sinks me deep
chorus holds me down,
but its air
I can't help but sing,
it knows when to play for me
somehow.

Engine oil buried deep as hate beneath my nails.
Won't scrub away
it remains like the mistakes I made.
Not always visible,
but I know it's there all the same.

Old tatt lines blasted as heart ache,
it's hard to follow the ink.
What it represented
now an obscure link
like faded love.
Though in a certain light
it don't look that bad,
or so I tell myself,
but mostly I try not to think.

Did the night
whisper your name?
Did I speak it
in a wish?
It hung here suddenly
almost a physical thing
delicately chiming echoes
elusively
pealing petal images
long after its bell had rung.
My heart listed
into its fading wave
before
its gentle ripple was lost
amid the sea
of a cruel cacophony.

Had better days,
but who wants to hear me complain?
My heart's not broken
and I'm not depressed,
but I'd better days all the same.

The kids have been good,
and my wife still loves me,
there was sunshine
between showers of rain.

Paid off the bills,
I'm physically well,
yet I'm feeling far from ok.
Want the end of today.

It only
takes the tiniest thing to
create a big difference.
An extra spoon of sugar
can make or break a cake.
A minute or two
to catch or miss a train.
A second or two
to turn a glance into a glare.
A centimeter up or down
a smile or a frown.
A word spoken or not
a question mark or a dot.
A thank you
a *******
a shrug
a hug
a coin in a collection cup
a 'how are you, honestly, what's up?'