and i’m just sitting here. i’m not much of a prayer, but i’m working on it; after all, she hasn’t even heard about the song i unintentionally wrote about her. whether it be for my selfish singersongwriter heart or the more direct version of the issue, please care.

This tiny trouble finally got the best of you
and made a nest in your heart and a lump in your throat
all that you possess will never mean as much to you
as that one small chance you missed
nagging at your heels just like a dog
trying to chew up the cover over what went wrong
because all of your excuses will expire eventually
tiny creeping wrinkles tucked into the corners of your eyes
a simple smile does not comprise a suitable disguise
a flick of the wrist a wrinkle of your nose
won't fix this although we all watch Bewitched sometimes
but no magic act can change the fact
that you got hung up on oh so fast
the phone in the cradle as fast as your able to put it down on the table
set the alarm for 5am just so you can get up with the sun
as if the brightness can drown out the din of all the worries in your head
you take the keys off the hook so careful there's no sound
and get in the car and drive around until you pass the playground
but it's too early for children to be appreciated
so you sit on a swing and you contemplate the situation
cause mourning doesn't hold all the answers
and you shudder as you feel the kick of that missed chance
and you use your feet to drag to a stop
but what will you tell them
what will they say
you shove your hands into your pockets
and your so afraid
it feels like days have gone by and you're still there waiting
just inhaling and exhaling that air that contains you
but your so afraid to dilate
to open up
back in your room at 6am
not a moment too soon for you
you close the door so nobody can see you
and pull that letter out of the drawer
to you it reads "don't bother trying anymore"
but you rip it to shreds
and go back to bed