My best songs were about you;
full of pure honesty and hopeless desperation.
They were written in minor keys
on lonesome days when I needed you most.
And I still sing your name in my sleep –
a lilted melody that cuts deep
and wakes me from a nightmare that doesn’t end
when my eyes open to the empty space you left in my bed.
With sleepless eyes I drive until the sunrise
and the radio is playing our song.
It makes my heart heavy and my hands numb
but I still scream along at the top of my lungs.
Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 1:42 PM UTC
My best songs were about you;
full of pure honesty and hopeless desperation.
They were written in minor keys
on lonesome days when I needed you most.
And I still sing your name in my sleep –
a lilted melody that cuts deep
and wakes me from a nightmare that doesn’t end
when my eyes open to the empty space you left in my bed.
With sleepless eyes I drive until the sunrise
and the radio is playing our song.
It makes my heart heavy and my hands numb
but I still scream along at the top of my lungs.
completed version of an untitled poem from 2016.
