Call it unemotional;
a sort of despair I bought three weeks ago
and I don't know where he hid it.
Could be beneath the floorboards
or in the cupboard under the stairs,
but my energy is gone
and I can't find the strength to keep looking.
He called me and told me that
falling was the best thing he ever did for me,
and I knew he was lost before
his head hit the floor.
Unbelievably brutal but oh-so-soft
and caring in a way that I could
never hope to achieve.
Did his promise make my skies lighter?
This despair is dragging me down, down, down…
and I can't find a branch to cling to—the way I did before.
Call it crazy,
but I hoped he'd understand
the painful ride straight from Heaven to Hell;
but I hid my smile and drowned him
in my tears. The hope was lost
and my despair was a blue blanket,
soft and soothing like the vastness of a cloudless sky.
Call it unfaithful;
my feelings were set in stone
and he fell too fast for me to catch him.
The best thing he's ever done for me was lost in
the whistling of the wind and
I watched him disappear