Or the way I treated you
The smile I scraped off your face
Replaced with pain, and walked away
Leaving with teardrops
Bitter icicles that stained my face
Pierced my heart, let it bleed
A trail of heartache all the way home
I miss you every day
Cherry Garcia is no comfort food anymore
It doesn’t matter if I can buy it or not
So gripped by anxiety of waiting to know
Then when I turned around
Phish Food had disappeared
It was gone
Just when I exhaled my last cherry breath
Just like the tulips that wilt behind my back
Just like the snow that melts while I dream
Just like the sunlight that disappears in a sigh
Just like that
And maybe this is Justice
This cruel irony
This twist of fate
This unsure, nonrefundable deposit
Or maybe it’s Karma
Finally making her rounds
Troubling me like I’ve troubled you
Breaking my heart like I broke yours
It’s all coming back
You’ve let go
You’ve been
Numb
Angry
Hurt
Upset
Okay
Doing just fine
Great
Over it
And I’m stuck in a roulette
Of my own doing
This seemingly endless
Wheel of misfortune and debt
Nothing I can do
But wish for wings and a peaceful breeze
Sometimes we don’t know what’s best
Sometimes we’ve known all along
But have been afraid to admit it
Sometimes we just have to clear our minds
Stay away from the window
Instead of waiting—face pressed to glass—
For sunlight to come shining through the clouds
Grass is such a funny thing
Covered by snow in winter
Seems dead, hopeless, lost
Melting snow
—the very culprit of its dreadful state—
Gives it the drink
It has long been thirsty for
Revives it
Grass almost always comes back
No matter the yellow’d blades
The trampled, matted paths
No matter the freezing or scorching
It returns with Spring
Maybe that will be my Justice
Maybe Karma will make another lap
Maybe I’ll find that Phish Food
Maybe Spring will come
And with it
Maybe the grass will, too.
TL
1:08am
26 February 2004
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