Empty Places
I stand outside the house I doused with gasoline, an empty can at the end of a trail where I stand; a pack of matches in hand
that house- hate it, love it, don't want what it was built for or holds anymore
Held on and left an open door,
but that was years before, when I still held hope for us.
Now, I kinda like the idea of nothing to return to..... for me or her, bid adieu, start a-new... there would be nothing to add to nothing and no one left..... and there's an empty spot to my right too
so where do I go from here? I don't know, and I don't care....
not sure if I'm seeing clear, but being here and free is exciting, igniting a flame deep inside of me, feeling as if life is inviting me, there's a fire that's driving me to taste all we're taught that we are not to taste.....forbidden fruit, hidden somewhere out there. I'm done here, and i do swear, that the wind will be my guide and never again will I be denied
I float on, taking notes on, the beauty I see, hoping to find that someone that can see the beauty in me
reality bites, and in the night a light flashes. right in that moment when I feel I've found her, I'm jerked from my dream to an alarm clock sounding
a few minutes more to explore and the night would have brought me to you.
but I wake up to nothing and no one left and there's still an empty spot to my right too
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