By Bryan Wegman.
When black ink drips your name
Do you still wear my sweater?
Does it still feel like me?
Would you even remember?
When the streets are all empty
And I’m calling your name
Would this make you feel better?
Could this be your cure?
Could this unlock the door?
When your image is stirred
All broken and blurred
I think of where you are
In someone else’s car
With the stereo low
And the foggy windows
Like we used to do
With my fingertip
I’d write you a letter
Come back home
I don’t want to be alone
We could look out the window at the cars passing by
We’d laugh and you’d sing
To the broken radio
With your finger in my nose
Watching our favorite show
Sharing secrets that no one else knows
Your screams echo
You grab you toes
I smile you laugh
But your already gone
Forever my shadow,
Will carry a shade for you
The missing gray
Of where our bodies once lay
I’m sorry, but we’re better off this way
I’m out of bed with my best clothes on
To show I’m all right
But I never left
The door was too heavy
My eyes were too tired
My mind wrapped itself around it
I couldn’t do it to you
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