Carved Out

Over the past year,
you've carved out a place in my heart,
and now it's become so clear
that this is the time that it gets ripped apart,
and so that's okay, sometimes that's how
the story goes, and I've been on this bus,
long enough to discuss, all the crappy things
than happen, when you let yourself lay out there,
when you figure, what the hell, I can tell
if something's poison or not,
but that's not why I'm here tonight:
I'm here just because,
all that was,
well, it's got to count for something,
clearly not loveneverending,
but dammit janet stop pretending
that my heart's broken
and yours is mending,

because I
will fly right now into the sky,
and burn up on re-entry
if I am not the sentry,
sent by God, to guard your heart,
and yet you think we are best torn
apart;

or maybe it's just me, cut loose:
the next candidate for a noose
of my own design;
happens all the time,
just a footnote to the news:
news that you can lose,
something with too much ooze,
something you can't excuse:
only me,
only me.

love, all damnation should surround thee;
too much torment lies where love's spent,
leaving us to wonder where the hell we went;
enough loss to make a strong person break,
too much heartbreak for anyone to take,
too much left, too much wrong,
enough to hurt for a thousand years,
enough to cry a million tears,
enough to make a damned fine song,
but not enough to help me along.

so much left to say,
waiting for just one hooray,
after nearly forty years,
of not so many cheers;
listening for just two hands clapping;
only two;
that doesn't sound like a lot to do;
I would do it for someone like you.

it tears me apart, from the ending to the start,
to know now that I must allow another
to have my lover,
and back away;
this cannot be, this is heresy,
but yet it is, it is the way that it must be,
be for you, be for me;
I am now just a memory,
just a part of the past,
someone who could not last,
someone who was tasked, for a little while,
with watching over you,
and making you smile.

you'll get stuck on him,
for some amount of time, no doubt;
but after a little, you'll be on the lookout
you'll be remembering that there once was more;
that love is not meant to be a chore,
something that you have to come home to,
but something that you want to come home to:
you'll be remembering me.

well, I'm too olde to know,
all the things I know,
and you're to young to see,
all that we could be;
so that's the way this ends,
with everybody friends,
and nothing more.

and one last thing to note:
I meant every word that I wrote
to you, and more
more than I can say;
sometimes words get in the way,
and only grunts and growls will do,
will do to make me clear,
that I, for eternity, will truly
love you;
it is true:
you are for me the final Concerto,
and I am for you.

and I am not so foolish as to suppose,
that these silly lines will oppose,
the choice you have chosen,
but oh, what I would give,
if I could live just a while,
in your heart, in your smile,
in your bed, instead
of someone else.

and time goes, as a river flows,
and no one gets to keep yesterday's rose;
and words leak, and thoughts creak;
but as long as there is light in tomorrow,
I will love you sweet girl o' mine,
and remember me always in joy, and not sorrow.

so it is so, and I have not so far to go,
till all this is past;
but for you, you sweet little flower,
whose beauty is never captured by the hour,
whose charm is a good enough dower:
I have loved you.



December 15, 2008, for Jan.

Copyright 2008, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.