Haunt

I embraced the pain in my legs from the weight on my shoulders
to shuffle down those steps.
"The door's this way," they promised,
I found it and left.
I heard the heart monitor's pace,
I remember the look on your face
and how I left it,
or how it left me.
Your parting words,
"I feel my feet getting colder,
I see you getting further,"
I'll never forget.
I reached the end of the steps,
my feet were begging me
to never take a stand
like that again,
Cause those kinds of memories I can't pretend.
So revel in that ground if you can,
cause I'll never forget.
I'll never forget.

Standard Operating Procedure

I left a note, something vague:
Taking off, Will call, Love Tim.
I put it down, I pulled away.
What a dream. (What a dream.)
I left, forgot, and never remembered
the borrowed summers, deceitful Septembers,
the disappointments after,
or the nights you were plastered.
Short term memories forgot nervous tics,
my heart leaped up, it volunteered for this.
I remembered most how the sun would set --
The day went down from dawn to dusk,
and from happenstance was the best of luck.
What a dream.