We wrote letters to tomorrow and savoured every moment. We floated in each others laughter and you stole my misery from my lips.
Do you remember today? The day you loved me.
We burnt the letters and wrote new ones for new people, and cringed waiting for the day to end. The laughter was muffled by the sound of that ambulance they took you away in, and my misery planted itself in your lungs.
Do you think about tomorrow? The day you love me. Or, maybe the day you don't. We'll stop writing letters, and we'll wash down yesterday with what the doctor ordered. We'll listen to laughter that isn't ours and wonder why nothing is funny like it used to be. My misery grew back like a **** in me, and you still haven't uprooted the **** thing out of your chest.
If only we could turn back the clock, and wind it differently. Yesterday could have lasted. Today might have been saved. Tomorrow might not look so hopeless.
I don't know if your clock ever got fixed But every day feels like tomorrow to me.