I spend every night that same,
lying in bed,
lying in pain.
Waiting for someone or something,
to heal my open wounds.
But I've been waiting and it seems,
these wounds ain't healin' soon.
I spend every night staring,
at a pale white ceiling.
And I wake every morning feeling,
like a forgotten doll,
propped up against the wall,
under the bed,
dust from head to toe.
I'm not sure if I'll ever know,
of a love like ours again.
And I'm not sure if I'll ever,
not feel numb again.
My mind is wired,
but it's wired all wrong.
Like an off key song,
it makes me cringe.
So tonight I will binge,
all the memories of us.
And then I will purge,
every last bit of trust.
Erase it from mind,
before the sun rises,
and then I will rise from this bed,
and pretend to live again.
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio