2004-03-10 - 12:51 a.m.
He does not love me, loves me like a brother. Hmmm, that’s one I’ve not heard before.
What changed?
We talked about that
for three hours.
on the work phone.
Shivering in cold,
crying, dead and alone.
Alive once off the phone,
Pulsating colour returns,
but you’d not understand
The grave is too deep,
Its walls muddy with regret
Five hours away you sleep
In a bed I once called hope.
So my imagination throws
Out all the old memories
Replaces them with new music
I’ll dance again, with another body
But still shivering in the dark
Tomorrow seems far away.
