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Vanessa Peters
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All of These Years
hair so blonde it's nearly white
like the siding on the house
that's faded outside
the room too full of morning light
you can't crawl back in bed and cry,
not 'til tonight
the warm summer sky splitting open wide
while all of the years got stuffed back inside
in a drawer labeled 'black hole'
the evidence vanishes to where god knows
and the papers were signed
I'm sure that he was waving
but I don't have that scene
available for playing
and all of these years of feeling sorry
for something
but not sure what
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and some sort of half-buried truth
the smell of fermentation
and half-rotted fruit
the heavy weight of expectation
that fell on all of us
the burden of unshakeable proof
the papers were signed
I'm sure that he was waving
but I don't have that scene
available for playing
and all these years of feeling sorry
for something
but not sure what
all of these years
I'm sorry
but not sure why
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