The Rain

Rain pouring down and as my tears tried not to pour out last night.  IT doesn’t change anything between us.  It doesn’t matter what you tell me anymore.  You will never act on me and I could wait an entire lifetime for you, because I just believe that much.  And you’d just stand back; puzzled, wondering how much will she take.  

Do you judge me for believing in a love you don’t feel?  I judge me sometimes. Why? Because I know better than to believe in something I have never felt.  Something that I feel now, but completely isolated and alone.  You abandoned me, you left US just as a me.  

What do I do with this textured heart now? I’m lost without knowing its ok to love you, not even expecting you to love me back.  I don’t think you ever will and if your mangled heart loves again I’ll still be happy for you.  But for now I’ll match the rain tear for tear.  I can never say it enough.  Reciprocity is so incredibly underrated.  

Pas de Deux

Light love, easy love. It starts simple, slow.

Building up to the unknown, no black clouds reign here, rain here.

 It should be this easy. 

If only 54 seconds could repeat itself forever.  And it does, for a few minutes, a few verses.  And it becomes steady, almost constant.  Ever so suddenly it builds, and you can feel it in your chest. 

And just as you’re used to it there’s a change.  Change.

  A hop.   And you know something is moving, something is changing.  Something you are curious by, more to know, nothing too dark yet.

 And as you start to circle you realize there is a mist all around you and you are spinning so fast.  And it’s so loud that you don’t think you could stop or land.  Darkness has surrounded you, and it’s agile.  And just as before you can’t stop it.  You can’t control it. 

It will spin you, and you will land where it wants you to land.  Even if you pause it, it comes back louder and darker than ever.  And suddenly you realize you are completely alone and dizzy in the mist.  Without two. 

There’s a sense of remembrance or a dream, or so you think.  And then you realize it’s a haze, a memory haze. 

You long for it keep running after it.  But you can’t escape the mist, you won’t this time. 

Searching and cherishing. 

This is the last of it, this pain.  After this you won’t remember anything at all.  The good or the bad.  And that, that is Pas de Deux.

Listen:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V4OGNqjA4Xw