October 1, 2015, Thursday, 10:58PM


It was all I had to say, and it turned out to be nothing that could have made you stay.

If I could turn back time, you know I would've called you mine.

If only I saw to it sooner that it wouldn't have been that bad, you wouldn't be just a remnant of what I could have had.

It was a lover and his lass,
  With a hey, and a **, and a hey nonino,
That o’er the green corn-field did pass,
  In the spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding;
Sweet lovers love the spring.

Between the acres of the rye,
  With a hey, and a **, and a hey nonino,
These pretty country folks would lie,
  In the spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding;
Sweet lovers love the spring.

This carol they began that hour,
  With a hey, and a **, and a hey nonino,
How that life was but a flower
  In the spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding;
Sweet lovers love the spring.

And, therefore, take the present time
  With a hey, and a **, and a hey nonino,
For love is crownèd with the prime
In the spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding;
Sweet lovers love the spring.

Her love shines like
a sunset through venetian blinds,
leaving me stripped
and striped with shadows and light.

Her love is the knife dissecting
my spine one vertebrae at a time.

I hope she likes
what I really am inside,
because I spill my guts
just to hear her sigh.