Makeshift Lullaby The Day After (come Back To Me)
These past couple weeks have been nothing but tests,
a series of meals I can't seem to digest.
And, although we have issues, you are my sustenance,
and I'm starving for you.
I've spent enough of my time
writing out detailed lists,
drinking far too much wine,
verbalizing with fists,
just trying to figure out
just what it is I miss:
the thought or the presence?
Oh, I'm no good on my own,
not enough to justify
what I've tried to postpone.
So come back to me,
where you belong, at home.
Just please, come back to me.
Come set me free.
