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Apr 2014
It hasn't even been a week
Since I saw him last,
But it feels like a lifetime;

However, when I take another look,
It feels like just yesterday,
A dazed and far-off kind of yesterday
As if I saw him in a dream
Just last night.

I saw him standing before me,
And he was really there
Until I opened my eyes
And rubbed out the sleep
Only to realize,
Him, oh him, I will never keep,

But just last week
I kept him and he kept me
In that dazed, far-off kind of dream.

Most dreams aren't real,
But this one had to be
Because I can still feel the way he looked at me.
Those brown eyes turned to me,

And I could feel them piercing my soul,
But never deep enough to leave a mark.
He was in my soul, but left it untouched,
So why does my soul feel so eternally touched?

I know he had no intention,
Not even the slightest,
Of making a home in my soul,
So why do I feel a fire lit in the fireplace
And footsteps on the floor?
Why do I hear the rocking of a chair?
I know he can't be there

Because I never let him in,
Never opened the door
To the house deep inside me.
I never let his feet hit the floor

Because I knew he would leave muddy footprints
That not even the best maid could clean,
And I would be left with a ***** floor
And an empty house,
An unlit fireplace
And an abandoned chair,
Still rocking ever so slightly
Just to remind me he'd been there.

m.c.c.
Mary Christopher
Written by
Mary Christopher  NC
(NC)   
395
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