She still had ways of pointing the finger.
She still had thoughts of pulling the trigger.
Longing for some special sort of attention.
Clawing away at the ache of the embedded sliver.
I should not have tried playing your saviour.
It only made for strange behaviour.
Now every seat is simply just a lonely seat
no matter who I find sitting next to me.
If I offered you your pick at an olive branch,
Would you waste time finding fault within the chance.
On your great escape I only sensed denial.
If yer not satisfied then why not change yer style.
I used to remain blind to my smothering ways.
That I was doing the pushing away.
Disgrace as I find,
that it is possible to kill while being kind.
It makes no difference just how much that one gives,
when the messenger expects something to win.
And roses raining the stage add to no amount.
When the curtains drop and the house lights have gone out.
released January 27, 2015
all rights reserved