I sometimes write songs.

With a pen in my hand and the words on my heart,

I sat down to write you a letter

To say all of the things I knew I never could

when you were still here.

 

My coffee gets colder as the words fall out wrong

I scribble and start over for the third time

But nothing does justice to what I feel inside,

and all the things you need to know.

 

Our chapter is ending and you’ll tear out the pages

of everything we used to be

While you mark out the passages you’d rather forget

I’ll keep it all in my heart,

I keep our story in my heart.

 

And you took up the vacancy in the seat across the table

At least in my head

And i listen to you pour out the bittersweet words,

knowing it was the end

you told me it was the end

 

Our chapter is ending and you’ll tear out the pages

of everything we used to be

While you mark out the passages you’d rather forget

I’ll keep it all in my heart,

I keep our story in my heart.

 

With a coffee stained letter I got up and walk down

to the post office box,

and I left it there, having faith it would reach you

one day far from now.

You’ll know far from now.

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One thought on “I sometimes write songs.

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