Tuesday, August 02, 2005

KITCHIFY ME

It’s Kitchie Nadal on the radio
Singing, at the top of her lungs –
…What I don’t understand is why I’m feeling so bad now
When I know it was my idea…

I’m on my second stick since you left and I’m counting
It’s almost finished now,
Will it take a thousand hundred thirty seven or just a pack?
I’ll lose track if I count, my memory will fail me.

I forgot to tell you that the king has died,
and that frame you made me is the same as the one I saw the other night,
I didn’t get to show you,
and I didn’t get to tell you - I didn’t lock the main door,
My memory failed me.

You said you’d get all the junk out of the sack and into the carton
That you’d cook me the black soup your known for.
Well you’ve done too much but darn you didn’t get to do it,
You left your mom’s clothes,
Did your memory fail you too?

Your lighter has no more butane
And your rubber slippers are two sizes too big.
I’m glad you left them,
And you brought my striped pillow along
It’s nice to treasure things that remind us.

Why didn’t I bring you to the infamous clandestine falls,
To the underwater city, that resort in the mountains,
that little white place that’s barely nothing when it’s high tide?
I wish I’d made some more nice memories here with you.

You didn’t get to see a TV on that stand you made for me,
The breakfast tray you told me to get.
And what about the new car I’m getting?
I don’t wanna make new memories if you’re not in it.

The water in the hot pot is the one you poured,
our left-overs are in the fridge,
the dishes are still dirty and I don’t wanna wash the glass you drank in,
I don’t wanna use your morning coffee mug,
I don’t wanna go erasing memories, any memory.

I feel guilty plugging out the wire connections you made,
and I seriously wonder why there are two chairs instead of one,
I had always planned to move the other one for my dresser,
Now I can’t do it lest I invade your space,
I don’t want fresh memories going old.

I’m about to sleep and I look at the empty spot beside me, your spot.
I’d rather sleep stiffly through the night
Than to shift about and roll over –
Only to wake up realizing that I can’t put my leg over you,
I can’t kiss your shoulder,
I don’t want my memory to torture me.

I’m a traitor to our solid routine, good times
There are so many movies we agreed to watch, together,
We would have debatedly and pondered heavily
about Harry Potter, According to Jim, Dong Puno, Gloria Gate,
I’m a traitor to good memories we were supposed to make.

I’ve always looked forward to every hard day’s end,
You’ve always been there to listen,
To loathe the people I loathe,
To love the people I love,
To simply be there, here, inside my world.
To remind me I’m not alone.

I’m gonna meet more people and so will you
You’ve peeked into my world but it’s getting bigger each day
I’m getting smaller and I want you to be here
To remind me I still exist.

You’re telling me that when we look at this the way it is
It is the right thing
For all of our purposes this can’t be wrong
That I said it myself, sometimes we have to sacrifice,
But I wanna remember each day with you

…What I don’t understand is why I’m feeling so bad now
When I know it was my idea…

It’s still Kitchie Nadal, and I decided to press the repeat button,
I want it to mock me until I return back home
Where I belong, with you
Then remind me, love, of all that has passed, could have passed
and will pass us. I want everything or none.

Posted by xam :: Tuesday, August 02, 2005 :: 1 Comments:

Post a Comment

---------------------------------------