A Whole Lot More...

I guzzle you into my gut
My stomach growls waiting for you to enter
and I often type like I'm still playing the piano
Tapping my feet to my heartbeat
to the drums of the woman you left behind
I wish my intuition didn't know you so well
I wish Bob Marley was my neighbor 
So I could ring his doorbell in nothing but my bathing suit
and get high off the thought of you
Write a platinum album and that way
I would have more to thank you for than just good ....s.....e....  
conversation. good conversation.
That's what I want to say
I watched our home videos tonight
You don't even look the same
I must have forgotten to videotape your funeral
Because all I have left are dead roses or rather stale perfume
I also have a bottle of liqueur you left me
Still deciding if I want to get drunk off your mercy or your memory
Still
I 
Want 
to 
Cry but tears cost a lot these days
I don't even remember how to do it anymore
Stale inside
Sour lips
Am I bitter at the thought of you
Am I crazy because I listen to my soul who tells me that there is nothing to worry about
She is not me
You are not gone
And silence speaks volumes
Run 
Run
Run from the sight of me on the cross
You still find your way into my dreams
And I am stronger when I wake up having felt your touch in the peace of my subconscious
Any woman that a man cannot face, he feels
Wear me on your skin like your goosebumps, like your cologne, like the last hug your mother gave you
And speaking of your mother, she didn't hug you because she was cold
She didn't hug you because YOU were cold