What if this were my final chance to say goodbye?
Awake one morning to find myself a fugitive,
Feeling bad because this is the end.
Would the words give you peace of mind? Small
And fragile as they run across the page
As if straining towards an invisible goal
They are powerless to change themselves
Lost in themselves, condemned from birth
Here they stand: I LOVE YOU
But as you rush to find me
I am still gone
The room is cold; the curtain, crooked.
May 12, 2010
May 12, 2010 at 5:29 AM UTC
What if this were my final chance to say goodbye?
Awake one morning to find myself a fugitive,
Feeling bad because this is the end.
Would the words give you peace of mind? Small
And fragile as they run across the page
As if straining towards an invisible goal
They are powerless to change themselves
Lost in themselves, condemned from birth
Here they stand: I LOVE YOU
But as you rush to find me
I am still gone
The room is cold; the curtain, crooked.