Never Has to Grieve

June 13, 2003

I could hold out a rose as we come face to face.
Would you even know it was me burning beneath the glare of lights?
Would any of the first touches matter to you?
Is this particular game playing out well for you?
I have had my heart broken before now.
I have seen myself crying in the mirror.
My eyes reddened and brutal.
Look into the rain and think for just a second that this is real.
Look into the rain as it falls again.
For the brief time I live in this summerland, I can't hear anything but you.
In the heart of all my secrets, there is only one secret with too many different names.
If secrets should be kept or if secrets should be exposed...
I strip in the mirror one more time.
I am left exposed.
And only the thought of touch can cure me.
Only the whispers of more have a hold on me.
In just one summer, I will live this like it is real.
When I hear it, I will know the newest version of us.
But only because I have a collection of what was.
But only because I burned inside for so long.
Every time I start to write, it seems my words only find you.
Every time I give in to this feeling, I know what you will have to say.
And say it. Please say it. Please sing it like I hear it.
Another day closes down on me.
Another month closes with the same questions.
But only because I still need the belief.
But only because I still burn inside.