What Remains at the End

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Ask The Birds and Combatplayer

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I breathe heavily
There's a melancholy in the air
Everyone speaks in low, soft voices
Respectful almost-whispers
As if terrified to disturb the ones
Forever asleep
Low echoes of clothes rustling
Benches creaking
And the occasional slight clearing of the throat
Fill the silent emptiness
And becomes a somber melody
Accompanying the tuneless whispers
I let my mind wander
Take a gander through the memories
Of you
Of us
And that time I slept on the couch
While all I really wanted was to be close to someone
I take out my notebook to write something clever and/or romantic
Like something about barefoot people
In the fresh cut grass
Social media self-promotion
As if anyone gives a f*ck
And then something about words
Through which I tell people
That nobody cares
As if anyone gives a f*ck
Something about the fact that I've fallen in love on the train
As many times as I've said "I love you" without meaning it
Something about the way we always rush the most important goodbyes
The way we hug when we'd prefer to kiss
The way the stars make us feel safe
The way you can't see tears in the rain
The way a candle lights up a glass of red wine
But it turns to something like
Frustration, anger, anxiety
A panic attack keeping me awake
Once a-fucking-gain it comes untimely
Like stepping on the head of a rake
See? I made that first part rhyme
Well, isn't that nice?
An A-B-A-B rhyme, about fucking time
But this shouldn't
You know why, because f*ck me, that's why
This is one of those nights
The nights with the fights
With the flight of my pride, the flight of my fight
Nothing left to give, frustration burning
In my bed turning, fingers burning
Thoughts in my head turning
Rage burning, my dad in his grave turning
Because once again I fight the fright
But have almost no more fight to give
I want to take flight, I want to get it right
Tonight is the night, it won't turn out the light
Because of my goal, I'm not losing sight
I'm so sick of doing this dance
I'm about to take a stance
With the devil dancing
At the end, glancing
Ahead, prancing
Towards the fucking feeling, lancing
Panic attack, romancing
My clarity enhancing
I used a rhyming dictionary to come up with more rhymes and it gave me Lansing and Sansing
A town and a surname
I've no longer got a direction
I'm missing in action
I'm M.I.A
I thought going away
Would fix nights like these
Yet, somehow, back again it is
But this is just a one time thing
I'm not letting it in
I wrote this to feel better
This is like a letter
You're a bitch, debtor
You may know who you are
If the words are not too hard
Do you feel like a rock star?
Sitting with a cigar
You're a fixed star
In a sports car
Well, guess what
You're nothing but a scar
A twat
A butt
A jump cut
To an uncut
Somewhat
Strutting kick in the butt
A kick in not two but
One nut
And now your budget is cut
Thanks a lot
They photograph the coffin
An attempt to keep a worthy memento
From this very last journey
But the point seems lost to me
What is that white box, other than
A final prison for me to be trapped in?
To bury myself
In feelings never felt
To look for love
In places love was never found
To find comfort in lies and truths and anything in between
To call for you
In a language you never spoke
Saying goodbye
To a thing that never was

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