I wish I could say to
her
Everything that comes to mind when I’m sitting at home wondering
Wrapped up in a
blanket on the couch she stares at the
TV
And tucks her
feet under my
knees
Warmth
Will she
see me in ten years, in five, in one?
How can I be with her when
she can’t even see me?
Sometimes I wish that she would say what she was thinking
When she’s
next to me in bed
And her breath is
warm against my
neck
Too many
nights spent watching TV this way
Her hand curled into a
ball inside mine
Her thin fingers cold against my
bare chest
I want to make her
understand what I
see
But sometimes she’s already as
blind as she’s slowly becoming.
I wish that she would
make up her
mind about me
I feel her
hatred almost as often as I feel her
love
- and
desperation.
It means so much to her…
…and it means so much to me for her to look
NOW!
Kind of a
rat... a maze with no
cheese at the end
Twisting around and around…
…some kind of
center of the world… whirling around…
Where she can’t see me
And I can’t give my
sight or
insight.
It’s ironic that the most
beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen
Fail and
fail and fail her…
It’s ironic that the
dreams I want to give her…
Fail and
fail and fail her…
So many people ask if her eyes are really that
blue…
And they’d trade them in a moment…
She’d
gladly trade them if she were able…
I wish I could give her
mine.
I wish I could say to her what I was thinking
Maybe in the
morning.