This week, last year, already a year, you were still here. You were leaving, but some piece of you was here. I don't understand where you went, nor do I understand how maybe you went nowhere, but plainly ceased to be. I've waited for a year now, to have some understand it. I've went through a few days here or there when I didn't even think about your absence. There were days when I would catch myself realizing that I was chasing some fantasy of calling you to tell you about something that happened or somthing I saw. Those moments were like emotional exclamation points that floored me, knowing that I would never be able to do that again.
All of this, I live with each day, and I get by.
What it is that always tears me into pieces and breaks my heart all over again is to hear John Lennon's voice. It transports me back to that room, with you, playing his music for you, trying to find what I thought would give you some last feeling of peace in this world.
A year ago you were dying. A year ago I still could hold your hand and it was warm.
I still miss you so terribly.
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
Black bird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
all your life
you were only waiting for this moment to be free
Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.
Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.
