ever the shade of blue you've left us in; my walls painted purple, the evidence between my fingernail and the skin.
i chip off the paint in bed. high off the fumes of a dark empty room and visions of you.
curtains falling it's a billowing view late summer nights bring wind from the sea remind the lonely how cold it is, or maybe that night mother earth wanted to remind me how to breathe, and how you can feel alive if you let the cold hit your cheek; it was disconcerting to say the least.
i was listening from the sheets between the curtains and underneath
each gust of wind visions of you walking in the room
i dont know what i believe in, but i guess it's not you. silence on dark roads past winding view all my men have left me nothing to do