I want to know what goes on
behind those pretty little eyes
before the night has won you over yet again.

I want to know where you sleep
and if there's room enough for me
Is that so bad?
I'm sorry.
I just don't quite know how to say what's been on my mind.

It's no longer the scent of you, but the idea of something swift enough
to knock the wind up out of me
Released like a dandelion's spores to the sun, forever drifting, never certain.
Signals displayed like a backwards highway road sign.

Reduced speed ahead.
Icy Conditions.
Stop.

I get it. Don't think this is linear.
This is as open ended as a tired maze.
a lazy labyrinth.
I've got options.
I've got options!
Not a should have, but a would have.

As I float upon the stream of consciousness, it happens.
Your face in a photo.
My hand through your hair.
Glimpses of images I'll never remember when I need to.
Your breath was hot.
My pupils were huge.
Silence.
Everlasting Silence.
Forever in fifteen.
Beauty in my presence.
You always were quiet just right.

Lost sandals.
Walking with purpose.
Parties.
Empty kids at the table.
*******.
Rainy Days.
Political *******.
A monologue of copied words with meanings applied.
Over music
The soft staccato, the quickening pulse,
the minor key trying to be major, to prove that he's changed, but he just needs a chance.

The song ends diminished, and everyone walks off.
Dejected.
Distraught.
Dying to know why.