The flowers are rotting in the vase,
You and I, we've indulged too long,
In this limbo of smoke that never rises;
Your lips move but I don't listen,
You're telling me to grow up,
Find a home.
But to leave you here,
In the middle of the middle of nowhere...
Have some coffee,
I'll smoke once more and pour my last thought into your atmosphere,
As the music drifts further away,
And we can't hear it any more because we're blind,
Although we think we can see it all.
You're wise and you won't admit it,
Telling me of the colour of the sun in different cities,
Running to see what people drop in street corners,
And your smile is so wide it contains more than my soul can bear.
I don't know what I've become,
A stroke of a brush unto an unfinished canvas,
Years into this, colours still not mingling:
We make for a damn good case study.
I can't see your eyes, but I can smell you sleeping,
I take off, away, knowing we will never touch again,
But how wonderful it was to rest here on your shoulder,
Like when we were kids,
And train rides were easier to take than ever.
I know I'm guilty.
And I am alone.
But you've tattooed home on my skin,
And you are in every place I go.