Postcard From Hell - Xv

Well, the story got so sad
I just wanted to end it.
I found the words on a postcard,
but couldn't find the nerve to send it.

I'd mostly given up
on ever having another chance
and I got the impression
my efforts were just a waste of stamps.

You and I used to sit on the beach
with pens in our hands
writing postcards from paradise
to our families and friends.

I remember my good humor
and reading it out loud,
but I haven't felt too witty
for quite some time now.

Everything I write
comes out dark and histrionic;
every time I try to be positive
the page has no words on it.

I took a stroll through a graveyard
of the past and pending
tryin' to say my goodbyes,
but the memories are neverending.

There was a beautiful girl
who knew just what to say:
She said, "I see you're lost,
but I think I know the way."

I knew I was being poisoned 
by your memory
and I was pining for your future
to finally send for me.

But the Devil's been my landlord
and the rent continues to increase
and I don't like my odds for survival
if I renew the lease.

The only way outta this place
is to leave your memory behind
and to create a new angel
to restore some peace of mind.

I was actually smiling 
as I was led from the graveyard
cuz I knew it couldn't hurt any worse
if someone penetrated my scar.

I followed her to her bed
and stared into her eyes
and, at last, saw a reflection
I didn't despise.

Copyright © Victor Dixon | Year Posted 2011

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