The Weary Will Sink

Now there's a hole
in the surface of my empathy.

    I tried fill it with a
    logic that spoke nonsense to me

I had a vision, had a
purpose, felt like I had meaning

Girl, it's not you I miss.
   I just miss the feeling,

      (miss the feeling of your body).



    Logic eroded 'neath
    the downpour in the inner-city

We didn't see it coming,
the hurricane started so lightly,

    but it won't wash away
    the hurt or satisfy the yearning!

Our hands are clean,
   so why is it I feel so dirty?

      where has all the rain been falling?



I found an anchor in a phone-call from a friend.

I am no sort of liar... for the time, though, we'll pretend

to care about each other like we did when we were close.

I hear it helps with coping, keeps my spirits as high as my hopes.

Am I alone in this mausoleum we call home?

I tried to speak to God, but God unplugged his telephone,

so if You hear my voice while rummaging through AM stations,

please be patient, please tread lightly, listen as I strum


        my pain away.