There are memories of you if there are memories of anything
There are stories to be told that won't fit the concept of this piece
The beauty that we birthed in these goddamn walls
Could fill the Louvre to the brim with our masterpieces
And don't say you never felt it, because I know in fact you did
I see the glint inside your eyelid when we speak as though we're kids
But we're still kids and there's still love
And we can be that again, hell we still are
But these goddamn walls are holding me in like bars
You escaped from the prison through a hole carved with a spoon
You could slip into the cracks, but I'm not small enough to fit through
We need a new home.
This place isn't home for me anymore
I hope yours isn't either
Because if it is that means you've settled, and I've already lost the war.
If I knew the steps I had to take
The smile that it would make would be concrete evidence to the fact
That there is love here, and here is my heart
It's not this apartment or the bedroom, or the fucking bathroom floor
We had a child here, as a scared couple needing a place to live.
Not a place that we're going to eventually call our own
Eventually title it our home
A temporary band-aid on the problem of homelessness.
Because we we're bringing a child to this world, and he needed a roof atop his head.
And as I lay here on the floor, elbows ground red from the carpet
I wonder to myself, just how I could have stopped it
How to stop the gentle distancing that at night leaves my heart reeling
How to get so close to touch your skin, without hurting certain feelings.
How do I let you know,
that every day I wake up to an empty bed (just like you do)
and I remember that once you were there, and even if you were sleeping
I loved the look upon your face, hell I just loved your face and
I loved the way you snuggled, and it sounds so damn cliche
But I just love your skin, and the way I can run my fingers down it slowly
And I don't need anyone, anywhere to tell me how I feel about you
This will never be more real than it is here. Minutes away but miles apart
and I'm rambling now because there's so many things that I want to say and this would sound disgusting
if it happened face to face
I'd make a wreck of trying to explain this, and I wouldn't use the proper words
and you wouldn't hear my meaning, because I'd stutter on myself.
I love you.