There's a place between sleep and sleep where things go in the time before they fade away. And stay. Like wide awake dreams that only haunt you while you try to forget. Things that shimmer sadly. Like an unshut eye drowned in a sea that stares at you till it sinks down to the ocean floor. Like dreams that get in the way of living that you kill to simply survive that make you squirm in their stench when they lie pale and purpling in the sun. While you step over them and know somewhere that this was the price you paid when you tried to forget what you'd give anything to remember now. Like a turned-in hand. Like a drunken dream. Like the taste of water in your mouth..and three songs you'll never play again.
Maybe you'll look back someday and catch a glimpse of me on the tail end of a memory. Of how I used to be. Maybe it will be a Tuesday and maybe the thought will make you smile.
There's things you write just once and never again. Like songs. Like pale naked truth.