We are firing shots across the crystal sea, our voices echoing from hull to hull. We cannot change our course or diffuse our views, we are each lost to the winding road of the same lonely heart.
I refuse to call it a day though, I just know that there is someone out there, someone waiting, someone wanting to hold my hand in hand as we walk by the sea of silent sorrows together.
Instead I call you here on this cold and grey Satuday night, the table dressed for two. I want you here by my side, the music is on and the feast is ready. I can sense that you are leaving before you ever truly came though, that the door is ajar and the cold wind is blowing. It is plucking silently at my skin. Instead and only in my dreams you are giving me head on Sunday’s unmade bed.
The candle has given its last flicker, the flame has withered and died. The cold covers are calling me, it is time I laid out my body and took my rest. My lips have kissed their last and my fingers are curled and grey. My hair is shorter than it used to be and my knees don’t bend as they should. I have given it all that I could, but that was never enough. I knew that life was tough, that we’d drink fom the lows as well as the highs, but this I know is the end.
Today becomes tomorrow, and that yesterday was but a dream.