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The Lonely Ballroom
The piano still plays, but the guests are gone,
we are still here, I guess I'm still here...
the tiles have grown green,
moss has invaded and branches have broken the windows,
this is my home
the loneliest ballroom I know,
we used to dance just me and you,
to the music only we could hear,
but now I know I'm on my own,
all I can do is swirl through the dust and the smoke,
chasing shadows of the past,
they're just puppets and the puppet master laughs and laughs,
I am not graceful, but I am desperate,
I am somber, I, am, hollow,
as hollow as this empty room,
knock on the door and hear it echo through to the ceiling,
I am the same, my heartbeats are the palpitations of reverberations,
they are call and response,
they are minor keys ringing out into an open space,
for no one.
-
I will slow dance with the ghosts,
how I revel in your acronyms anymore,
my voice is careless, you do not listen, I do not sing,
I've grown mute, to you at least,
I miss you,
but I understand we could've left this room ages ago,
and now it is just me,
and I can't just seem to leave,
even as sunlight pours in beams through the broken ceiling,
signs of the outside are all but escapable,
but ignorable,
I close my eyes, sleep, dream and I feel us again,
it is cozier to live in this lie than face what has gone by,
but I blink, and the bright lights turn to broken floorboards and cracked windows,
I waft at the dust, and just look out the window.
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