(no subject)
i am the car parked by the beach at dawn
i am the song afraid to be sung for the first time
i am the wall of the crime scene
a bloody jackson pollack
i am not the field you fill with broken cars
i am not the coffee shop with a buzz of whispers and intentions and espressos
i am not the eye of the storm
the truce in the middle of a war
there is this feeling i get
but i'm afraid you can never feel it
it comes in dreams
and in forgetten names
and when the phone doesn't ring
and when you try to kiss me with your eyes open
you are the beach in the afternoon
you are the chorus of the hit single
you are the onlooker at the crime scene
an obvious joke
and an old chair's creaky leg