I wrote a letter
on a beacon of hope
gave fate the return address
but sadly, I still sit and wait
for tomorrow
and tomorrow
maybe tomorrow
but sadly, tomorrow never comes
every day is a search
every day a wish
please
please
oh please
but sadly, nothing is found or returned
some days I see shadows
some nights a mirage
could it be
could it be
could it be
but sadly, none of them are really you
there are moments where I believe
there are moments where I truly feel
that I will see you again in time
as it passes
and passes
and passes
but sadly, you're still disappeared
Screw the cab, it’s nice out, and I’m walking. Ah, the Christmas Eve Night walk home. This memory is further to the first snowfall entry I posted a few days ago in terms of the atmosphere it creates. A single awesome holiday mini-tradition that we tend to forget about. You don’t realize how Christmassy it is until you’re there in the moment. If you ask me, there’s no better backdrop to a beautiful Christmas than ending it with a brisk cool clean air walk home. Alone, or with a special loved one. Either way, it creates a warm and fuzzy feeling inside. You’re Christmas so far has been nothing but food, drinks, music, friends, and your loving family. Annnnd, the best part. Well, the best part was Santa still had to swing by the old house to drop off the gifts. Score. Oh, and turkey tomorrow…oh my God, Mmmmm, nan’s turkey!!!
Yes, I remember those nights when I close my eyes. How the stars always had the right amount of glow to them. Enough to guide you home. I loved how the streets had just fallen snow that sparkled in the light and covered the whole road. The only imperfection was a single set of tire tracks that belonged to that one taxi that was still making passenger runs. I can still see those super big snowflakes as they fall sideways against the shine of the streetlight as I pass the last stretch toward home. By that time all I could think of was how comfy my bed was going to be.
Those chilled-to-the-bone but warm-to-the-heart walks home are still very vivid in my memory. No matter if it’s twenty years ago or just last year, I love a good stroll on Christmas Eve Night. Because in the end, there’s snow place like home and I’m going to jingle all the way.
I’m sorry you were alone when the faces drifted away. When your days got stolen and good nights emptied. Just a vessel that you God, abandoned. Someone who gave up her soul before she was given one. Where were you when she asked to remember? Why did you punish her when all she did was repeat your name in prayer? Lord, her story deserved a better ending. At least, you could have allowed her to say goodbye to her favourite characters. But, I bet she forgave you too, after paying a toll at the gate. Not for herself… …for me.
The other night, I looked up for the moon To ask him for a small favour “Knock for me…at that heaven’s door” I was alone and needed someone in particular not only did sky open up and become ours the clouds even came by for a listen
It was as midnight as midnight could be that late, dogs cried at the moon all the way down as I followed you straight to an early grave not once knowing ignorant, childish, wishing for my own home we shared nothing no words, not a glance, not even…presence only fading footsteps in the rain before you went to a place you felt you had to regret I held in a subtle hello maybe I would have turned it off stood a final chance and shooed the voice away from you but when lady death came teasing your ear? there was no way I, me… someone who would just threaten a made up mind compete that night with deathly songs of teenage tragedy singing you toward an infinite dark by the tune of your own broken heart stealing any lust left for tomorrow then I watched as you walked toward the Bluest Oyster never to see you again
