Where I wake up and don’t think
About what is missing
All these fucked-up emotions
Fire and ice in my veins
When at the end of the day
Everything I have to say
Comes down to
The simplest of sentiments…
I miss you
Come back
Declan’s final words come out a broken whisper, and then Connor immediately stops playing, his band picking up a tempo without even needing to be cued. I swallow the lump in my throat, wanting nothing more than to curl up around Declan andsoak up every second of his pain, but knowing that will never be possible.
So, I do what we do best. I lift my mic and let the words out.
Time, what a messed-up notion
As if it gives a fuck about you
Or me or how much we depend on
Such things as hope and infinity
How we lie to ourselves habitually
Leading our lives with the arrogant notion
That it won’t run out
That we won’t be left standing here
With our ass in our hands
As we wax on poetically about love
Lost, while wallowing in deep misery
Some people will say we reap what we sow
That we’re weak-willed, willfully
Incapable of moving on from the bad thing
That didn’t even happen to us
As we still live and breathe
But fuck that and fuck them
The unsolicited judgment of those