Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Victoria Williams: 0278

Two hundred things I did and you still left.
Despite lying like a throw,
Living in the bed,
Calling at three AM,
Taking pills or saying I was taking pills,
And being the only one to know,
Why was it still so easy for you to go?

You were crying, crying,
Like you’d lost a sword fight,
I said teach me the piano,
And after four hours you were crying, crying,
Over the noise I was making.