a life that was, that no longer will be

tonight i closed and locked the door to my old apartment for the last time. and, in doing that, closed the metaphoric door on a piece of me&david. maybe the last piece.

yeah, it hurts.
but sometimes hurting is okay.

all night i've been hearing in my head this song...

these are days we dream about
when the sunlight paints us gold
and this apartment could not be prettier
as we danced up there alone

this tv's old, the color's fucked,
you see the difference in the shades?
but the green's still close to green, my love
and i believe we are the same

and we’ll stay like this, all gold and green
light collects and projects your heart on a movie screen
and if you close your eyes we will always be
the way we were that night you crawled inside of me

and you slept in my blood the way you sleep now
the quietest hush has consumed this house
and when the doctors have gone and you sweat through the bed
with the pictures and the pills they piled around your head

just rest now

and in a moment you'll know everything
was it all a dream? it’s too vague now to recount
an outline of the one you loved
in a life that was, that no longer will be
stands above you as you sleep