If only he'd called last orders
Even though the sun still threw its summer blanket over my lazy shoulders
And burned my reflection into the black screen of your glasses
A reflection of who I was
No premonition of who I would become
While the last cigarette still lingered on my tongue
Leaving the taste of nostalgia and bitter familiarity in my breath
And daring excitement and rebellion on yours
As your words twinkled and danced around an undeniable truth
And I
In innocence half feigned
Half in hope
Half in dream
Took one step forward
Edging towards your tango of inevitable wounds and tears.
If only they'd rung the bell
And we'd knocked down the last of that lukewarm wine
From watermarked glasses that threw distorted shadows on the table before us
As the dusk swept in like a curtain
Smothering our small talk
Leaving only an enduring flame built of history and kindled with confessions
Around which we huddled, as night fell,
Singing songs no strangers have a place to sing.
If only we'd walked our separate ways
Instead of throwing our liquored words along the train tracks
Loud enough for only us to hear
But a deafening scream in our heads
As they hurtled over an invisible line
And plummeted down a cliff face of caged emotion from which there was no return.
If only I'd never let you into my head
With nothing left to do but flush you out
With the same sickly wine that put you there
To drown the hole i feel growing in my stomach
Gnawing at my inside
Before I lose myself to anger or to pain.
Before I admit I miss you.
Before he calls last orders.