Part 2 – Bed of Lies
bed of lies
No I
would not sleep in this bed of lies
So toss me out and turn in
And there'll be no rest for these tired eyes
I'm marking it down to learning
I am
Don't think that I can take another empty moment
Don't think that I can fake another
hollow smile
It's not enough just to be sorry.
Don't think that I could take another talk about it
Just like me you got needs
And they're only a whisper away
And we softly surrender
To these lives that we've tendered away
No I would not sleep in this bed of lies
So toss me out and turn in
And they'll be no rest for these tired eyes
I'm marking it down to learning
I am
Don't wanna be the one who turns the whole thing over
Don't wanna be somewhere where I just don't belong
Where it's not enough just be sorry
Don't you know I feel the darkness closing in
Tried to be more than me
And I gave 'til it all went away
And we've only surrendered
To the worst part of these winters we've made
I am all that I'll ever be
When you - lay your hands
Over me
but don't go weak on me now
I know that it's weak
But God help me I need this
I will not sleep in this bed of lies
Journal Entry- Liz Parker
He's gone. He left
me to face the consequences alone. I
had my wedding dance, but not the wedding. When he disappeared I knew I'd succeeded in turning him away. But if I was successful, why does it hurt so
much? Success is supposed to bring
pride.
I'm having a hard time deciding where to rest my
eyes. I can't look out on the
balcony. I see where he first kissed me
and where I danced with the older version of him. It's emptiness mocks me.
I can't look at the bed. I see lies and deceit. I see
Kyle lying there with me beside him. I
see the treachery that I was forced to stoop to in order to save everyone. No, I can't look there. Oh God, where am I going to sleep
tonight. I can't sleep there either.
I can't look at the bathroom. He hid there. I changed
there.
I close my eyes to hide from the visions of my deceit, but
I feel trapped by the darkness.
Tonight, I guess I'll sleep on the floor with my eyes
open. Only the ceiling doesn't mock
me. I'll recount the 143 ceiling tiles
and hope that I don't dream or suffocate from the darkness.
How will I ever be able to sleep in that bed again? Will I ever be able to sleep without
clutching the shirt he loaned me? I'll
sleep and try not to remember all that I lost in that moment. Forever.
