Without

Glance at me darkly

And hold me with your bent hands.

I am falling back,

Deep into that place of quiet despair,

Into the cold comfort of your sins.

Losing

Like so many of my bad days

my good days just got up and left.

And now I’m left in its waking tide

counting the moments between each breath.

I sit under this banyan tree

with her picture in my hand,

wondering if that sun will ever set

and if I’ll ever see a full moon again.

You see I came home to find a note

duct taped to my doorway,

and I don’t think my baby is coming home.

She kept telling me that she was gunna do it

and now my lover is on the road.

No, I don’t think my baby is coming home.

In years past I would gaze up to check

search for her dust trail leading her back.

Nowadays I’m to tired to even try,

I’ve lowered my head and gave my eyes a rest.

For a time I couldn’t sleep

and I left her pillow alone.

It loomed over my nighttime heartache

like a queen-sized downy goose feather throne.

You see I came home to find a note

duct taped to my doorway,

and I don’t think my baby is coming home.

She kept telling me that she was gunna do it

and now my lover is on the road.

No, I don’t think my baby is coming home.

It’s starting to get a little chilly

I guess I’ll pack my things and head back inside,

lower myself under covers

and bid myself a fond farewell goodnight.

Just before I lean over to turn out the light

I close my eyes and I pray:

that while she’s out there searching for herself

she finds someone strong enough to keep her safe.

You see I came home to find a note

duct taped to my doorway,

and I don’t think my baby is coming home.

She kept telling me that she was gunna do it

and now my lover is on the road.

No, I don’t think my baby is coming home.

Yes, she kept telling my that she was gunna leave

and I guess I just didn’t believe.

Goes to show how much us guys know.

No I don’t think my baby is coming home.

No, I don’t think.