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- A Letter to a Dead Friend
Dearest friend, where do I begin? I’ve been writing this for months and months and it never seems to end
There’s always one more phrase, to take it’s place.
Where do I begin?
Where do I begin? I’m running from myself at the edge
Lighting fires in my lungs, to clear the smoke from my head
I always hate moments like this
- Hospice
How many novels did they leave, sitting by your bedside?
I swear they must’ve covered up the floor
A sea of words you’d never read, as you sail away on the evening’s tide
Set for the shore of your chest of drawers.
You tried to put on your favourite shirt
but your little bones always seem to hurt
When you spend your days fast asleep on your deathbed
- Said The Owl To The Vulture
We’ve walked the same path for far too long,
And even though we’re divergent, we’re always in each others footsteps
I’ve carried the weight of my guilt while you ate at my conscience
Like it was carrion on the side of the road
It was here we stood and we said we’d change,
So I could face myself for one more day
I saw the hunter in me become a prey to the passion
(of walking beside a vulture)
- Walls
If I was stronger then things would be different now
And I could change the words and all the fights we had
And I could live with the guilt that we buried out back
And forget all the times that I let you down
If I could see the things that were here all along
I would right the wrongs before you gone
I swear I'd make up the time where we stared at the walls
Where I sat here angry and you sat there alone