today’s our day, an anniversary and lonely memory of what used to be
july thirteenth comes and goes, i float – this ocean’s cold
i know it’s getting old and i know i’ve been told
but have you stroked the hair of something gold?
the way i held your arm – once warm, the spark
dancing in the dark, your neck
i’ll never feel the way i did and maybe i should’ve known it then
the calls and all – how many times i heard, “leave your name”
the way you ignored, how you whored
it took so long to shut the door, but sometimes it opens
my emotions become broken and all you ever were was just this token
but now i re-enter focus and all i remember, words and motions
people have asked, but i don’t know which to use
i remember the day, the moment and everything spoken
but my expressions feel stolen and i can’t talk about you
i write, but my tongue lives in spite and my words tend to hide
i believe i’ve seen the light and my soul mate has arrived
it’s fine to know they’ve come and gone and i know i’m cradling this bomb
but i’ve held my fright and occasionally in the night i happen to cry
my palms become sweaty and my thoughts are heavy and petty
but i realize i’ve experienced the most grand happiness
july thirteenth might come and go, but my memories will stay forever
and when i’m in the hereafter and i look over my shoulder
i see the eyes of the beholder – i know the air won’t become colder
the long-lasting smolder won’t remind me of october
but the tears won’t be fears, just my happiness and i reminiscing about the way i stroked your hair