My Game

You're right.
I shouldn't miss him.
I know I shouldn't believe him.
I shouldn't long for what we never shared,
or the sparkling chemistry.

For what was it worth,
whatever wasn't there?
What was it worth,
the things that were?
Nothing to put at stake everything,
all that I risk, all of my game.

You're right.
I shouldn't look.
I shouldn't listen to his words.
I shouldn't imagine what could have been,
from that sparkling chemistry.

For what was it worth,
whatever wasn't there?
What was it worth,
the things that were?
Nothing to put at stake everything,
all that I risk, all of my game.

But why do you bother?
Why do you shield me?
Why do you enchant me in dance,
and put me in a dreamy trance,
whispering all of your promises in my ears,
and never failing a hug when there's chance,
when you can't be there

When you can't be it

You're right.
I shouldn't want him.
When he can't be you.
But if I'm going to wait forever for you,
I'll be done with, through and through.

How do I tell you
that all I ever really wanted
all I ever really missed
believed
longed for
and imagined
was you?

What is it worth,
whatever isn't there?
What is it worth,
the things that are?
Everything to put at stake,
all that I risk, all of my game.

__________________________________

Of course another late night madness from the Poet is something that is required after every night out, coming home in a cloud of drunkness and strange memories of a strange night. I'm perfectly sure what I wanted to say with this song, but no worries, I'm quite convinced that idea will have disappeared by morning. Interesting, isn't it? How sometimes, even though you might suspect fragments of what was really intended, the piece is left to speak for itself, with what is written; and what was once between the lines is up to the reader to interpret and to see... Either way people, enjoy, since writing is the best-can-do for the Poet, when she's depressed.
POET in the JAR