There’s all these voices
I look around the room
I close my eyes
Some raise a glass
Expect me to just hate women
My phone blows up
“Look at this.”
“Go to therapy.”
“Take 4 years.”
Everyone has an opinion
I watch the room
I spent all those years
Doing what I thought was best
Buying flowers
Writing letters
Making dinner
Dances in the kitchen
I still didn’t do everything right, I guess
It’s not one persons fault
I won’t complain
I’m not going to cry in my beer
I’ve seen that
Too too many times
I watch the room
I feel nothing
I feel nothing at all
That’s the worst part
I don’t hurt
I’m not angry
I cannot possibly drink enough
And I feel nothing at all
“You know what you should do? You should go sniff and hit everything you can.”
But I feel nothing at all…
Only the blues
There’s an isolation inside
And I know
There’s going to be a morning
When the sun will rise
And I will only write
About that deep blue
That is her eyes
Just give it time
Even the sea is calm
At the darkest of the night
And I try to think
But the words can’t be found
And I try to drink
But there’s never enough
So I watch the room
And accept this too
This feeling – Nothing
Hoping I don’t become some kind of
Bitter southerner
That’s all
I don’t want to be hung up
I don’t want to be bitter
They expect me to just hate
But have you ever
Talked for hours with a woman
Danced without hesitation
Read until the morning
With her hand in your hand
And her head on your chest
There’s a thousand other intimacies
She gives you before you’re in her bed
I know this will pass
This feeling nothing
Regarding Samuel 