The Final Thank You

        All eyes on the calendar

Another year I claim of total indifference

All days leading up to this day are just hours upon hours of letdowns

                                         Disenchantments

                   Awkward moments

Disappointments…

To here, the days pile up

                                                                      All with decisions to be made,
                                                                    [I'm sure all of them were wrong]

Into this paper, I send myself

     And with these drinks I plan to collapse

              And I plan to forget this wasted year

                     My plan is faulty when I consider certain events that I will hold onto for eternity

                              The countless hours spent with you I will hold onto indefinitely

But even devoted acquaintances will withdraw

                                                          And I'm sorry about the phone call and

                                           I’m sorry for needing you

                         Some pronouncements, no one should have to debate.

                                          I wouldn’t wish my fate on anyone.

                                                         No one should have to suffer.

                                              
                                                [I guess it's just like breathing and not wanting to]

                                                         There are some things you can't fake

                                                              Some things are unforgivable

                                                        Some thing you just can’t counterfeit

I guess that it's typical

To cling to memories you'll never get back again

And to sort through old photographs

Of a summer long ago or a friend that you used to know

                                                        To see their face frozen on the page.

With a little immortalized emotion that will be sustained until the image has faded out of

Everyone’s psyche.


                     Then I’m sure you wrote the name and that ancient date

                              In hopes that perhaps one day it will all come back to you.

                                 The tears

                                            The smiles

                                                    The bloodshed.

But for now all that's left is a fucking song and a remembrance or two. And

I'm sorry about the phone call; and waking you.

I know that it is late and I'm sure you had a bad day,

But thank you for talking, because I needed to.

                                                               Some things just can't wait.