I wake up often enough
In the middle of the night
While my mind tries to go back to sleep
My eyes wander
And come to rest on my hand on the pillow
Needless to say the hand is empty
And memories of what it once held come rushing back
I still remember tracing the contours of your face with my fingertips
And the feel of your hair against my palm
I would have burnt my fingertips over and over by now
And scraped the skin off of the palm
Had I not known
That although the feel resides on the tips
The memories are in my mind
And I can’t erase those
One often thinks that reel life has got nothing to do with real life
And that truth is stranger than fiction
Yet, lying awake, with the moon for company,
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind
Suddenly makes a lot of sense.
In the middle of the night
While my mind tries to go back to sleep
My eyes wander
And come to rest on my hand on the pillow
Needless to say the hand is empty
And memories of what it once held come rushing back
I still remember tracing the contours of your face with my fingertips
And the feel of your hair against my palm
I would have burnt my fingertips over and over by now
And scraped the skin off of the palm
Had I not known
That although the feel resides on the tips
The memories are in my mind
And I can’t erase those
One often thinks that reel life has got nothing to do with real life
And that truth is stranger than fiction
Yet, lying awake, with the moon for company,
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind
Suddenly makes a lot of sense.
1 comment:
That although the feel resides on the tips
The memories are in my mind
And I can’t erase those
A truer word was never said Billy, and yet after a while, the touch remains, as does a hazy mark and the pain subsides. And the moonlight is beautiful by itself.
Loved it,
Scarlett
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