Whenever the small remnants
Built by ash remaining
Come blowing by my door
And fill my heart with you again;
I must turn around
I cannot say hello again.
I gave this thought so many tries
So many failed attempts
That it would be pure foolishness
To let you in my heart again..
Or what is left of it.
Time is an endless illusion
Making it hard to breath
Once one is conscious of it
Its just so hard to beat.
I wish that I was blind, deaf, mute--
That way I wouldnt have to care
About your voice, your face, your hair
Or anything else that isn't fair.
Every time the wind blows dust
It reminds me of you and I
Trying so hard to stay still
Amid strong wind
That was impossible to see.
How can it be that I
Would do this all again?
You destroyed so much, left so little;
But I still think of then and wonder:
Oh, how young.. how clueless.
