maybe you looked.
and you saw something i didn't see
something you shared.
her colors were bright and
i understand the concept of bar light
and the dark desperate anguish
that falls upon beautiful things

made to suffer.

but darling, you're still all mine
because i believe in my world
and it's possible
plausible
that you don't understand
but don't you take it away.

some things, even whiskey doesn't cure, so we resort to scotch or vodka or rubbing alcohol or glue.
but you can't walk that walk.
and you're the one with the reasons
and you're the one whose words i'm waiting for.

i'm asking that you not make this true.
only that i would be more than dalliance
than ironical nostalgia
than the hush of a still world in a town that people knew
but can't know.

maybe you've already forgotten
how the look fueled the night and stayed and whispered as we lay naked in your ear that something in this world was still sensual
not dead.

but maybe it could be me
if you wanted to let me live up to what you hoped for
if you stayed to hear that i'm not as safe as i portray
or as unburdened.

baby
maybe i'm capable of being
more than your closeted ambition
more than a missed chance
more than what you think you're searching for
more than saying goodbye.