i have peices of you stained on me.
like rings on a wooden table
like coffee spills on white t-shirts.
youre stained on my skin, never to be washed away
never to leave.
maybe thats why im hung up on you

im searching for you
in the clouds
in the streets
in the breeze.
searching for a hand,
a laugh,
a whisper,
a song.
but youll only sing for her

youll pull me along, through the dust, the heat, the cold, through the world
and no matter the pain, the blood spilling down my arms
the rope burns across my fingers
ill hold on.
ill always hold on

oceans wash over me.
obliterating my sin,
purifying my soul,
making me clean.
they wash over me coming
one after the
other
after the
other.
washing away their hands,
their smile,
their voice.
washing away the peices of me that once belonged to them.
these oceans of mine will simply wash me away