I burned it, scorned it, watched it as it turned to ashes. And I knew, without a doubt, what it meant – Inhaled the dirty scent, and away my mind went. To yesteryear, my home right here, where you appear Laughing, the joy lit in your eyes, I now despise, everything I ever knew about you – lies? Perhaps, maybe, who knew – I can’t say I do because I don’t, I won’t, I wouldn’t if you Begged; not now. I watched it burning – yearning for the lost, tossed into the fire. And I remembered everything, nothing, something And the tears came with the shame and the blame But I wiped them away and held my pain at bay Refusing to let you get the best of me, the rest of me, I testily disagree and take it all back – or did you give it? It doesn’t matter anymore – never really did before – It was all laid out on the floor – and you smashed it. You can blame me if it makes you feel better – don that Blameless sweater and hope it never unwinds. Behind That mask you wear, it’s there, all that truth bottled up And sold to the highest bidder as a lie – when did you get so high upon that horse? The source, I’m sure, looks To you like a friend with no end but shall I lend you my Knife? It’s your life, after all. Don’t fall on the broken edges Of reality they’ve placed around your face. Yes, I burned it. The words of my heart fell apart in the fire; I desired it; in the end, I admired it. So easy came the flames To burn away the names etched in my mind. It died. I cried When I said goodbye. No more. I’ve closed the door. Indecency. I won’t tolerate the brush off; the back burner Only simmers so long – I was only so strong – I tried to hold on. I failed. You failed. We failed. Together. Worlds apart. Nothing will be the same – it remains – unchanged. I burned it. To ashes; dust; nothing left but the rust. I burned it. Laughed and cried while that part of me died. I burned it. Said a mighty “fuck you” while the flames Licked my wounds and soothed my shattered ego. We go Way back – before any of them took a breath; through Life and death. We were, once, beautiful and forgiving, Living and loving and laughing. We were. But I burned it. Like the book – friendship in ashes. |