Someone asked me if I still think about it. I said I don't.
And if I miss the good times, they said, one day, I won't.
It's strange how somethings go from all to nothing.
Like how two people move on and can forget all the loving
Seconds and hours that built up a life
And affections once devoured now feel sharp like a knife.
I'm still trying to learn the art of rewriting, reshaping
Memories of homes that weren't built for escaping.
But wherever I go, I still know this aching,
'Cause I leave parts of me that my past keeps on taking
Away.
Haven't been there in months, but I'm there every night.
It's like I'm stuck in the past until morning brings light.
And I know it's not real now, I found my way out.
But what if when my eyes open, I'm there in that house?
I'm still trying to learn the art of rewriting, reshaping
Memories of homes that weren't built for escaping.
But wherever I go, I still know this aching,
'Cause I leave parts of me that my past keeps on taking
Away.
Don't think I could ever
Put myself back together
If I lose the pieces that hurt.
'Cause every piece of me hurts.
I'll go anywhere, wherever;
I've been running away forever.
Still trying to find the art
In learning to restart.
I don't know why I still think about it, but I do.
And I shouldn't say that I miss it.
But I do.
'Homes Built For Escaping' - 29/09/22.
YOU ARE READING
Songs About Merion Station
Poetry❝ It's been two, long years, but I wouldn't know it. And the dark of what happened remains unspoken, and I know it doesn't matter to anyone, like you were hoping. ❞ Merion Station, Pennsylvania, United States of America.
