Author: Mclean
Disclaimer: If they were mine certain someone wouldn't be dead and other certain someone wouldn't have to warm his bed with an electric blanket. Also, 'Ghost story' is a spawn of that issue-ball that is Sting's mind… God I love him. And I stole a line from "Broken Music"
Dedication: To Hi-chan, you're still a bastard. Yeah, 'tis a songfic, bite me. Ok, you know I love you… don't you?
Ghost Story
I
watch the western sky
The sun is sinking
The geese are flying south
It sets me thinking
I did not miss you much
I did not suffer
What did not kill me
Just made me tougher
I feel the winter come
His icy sinews,
Now in the firelight
The case continues
Another night in court
The same old trial
The same old questions asked
The same denial
The
shadows closing round
Like jury members
I look for answers in
The fires embers
Red, so red it hurts to watch it. It's alright, I won't have to wait for long, soon enough night will fall and all colours will bleed to black and black alone.
I tear my eyes from the window and look at the discreet clock on the wall. Too early for sunset, I vaguely remember days being longer. But that was before.
My knees draw closer to my chest and I let my head rest on them. Eyelids fall closed and I can't help but welcome the scarlet glow. At least it warms my face.
One, two, three, four, five… six months. Has it really been that long? But again, it feels as if I'd always been without you. Not that I had ever been 'with' you. My hand closer over what was yours. I found it on a drawer in your room: a looking glass that shows me the last thing I want to see. Myself.
The glow has faded. Is that the winter leaking down the window? I would stand up and close it, but I'm afraid if I move I will shatter into pieces. Let it get me.
I'm, as always, surrounded by ghosts.
Why was I missing then
That whole December?
I give my usual line,
I don't remember
Another winter comes
His icy fingers creep
Into these bones of mine
These memories never sleep
And all these differences
A cloak I borrow
We kept our distances
Why should it follow that
I must have loved you?
What
is a force that binds the stars?
I wore this mask to hide my scars
What is the power that moves the tide?
Never could find a place to hide
What moves the earth around the sun?
What could I do but run and run and run?
Afraid to love, afraid to fail
A mast without a sail
"Moony"
I opened my eyes and stared up to silver pools. It hurt to keep my lids open. I turned to the window, the moon was gone behind the snow. I made a noise to let you know I had noticed you.
"Do you remember how it was when we were, uh, lads?"
I nodded slowly. I did remember. I do.
Silence
"I want to feel like that again"
I didn't answer. Since you were back I kept the words I gave you as if they were gold. Now they failed me. You shifted on your sitting spot beside my bed. "I know" I t was all I could manage. I wanted to feel like that again.
I kept my face away. Your fingers brushed my hair. My heart hammered in my chest. I didn't know how to tell you I was still your friend. I could only wish my actions showed you how much I missed you, how much I cared, how much I…
The
moon's a fingernail
And slowly sinking
Another day begins
And now I'm thinking
That this is indifference
Was my invention
When everything I did
Sought your attention
You were my compass star
You were my measure
You were a pirate's map
Of buried treasure
If
this was all correct
The last thing I'd expect
The prosecution rests
It's time that I confessed
I must have loved you
The mirror leaves my hand and scatters on the floor. I shake my head. "No" escapes my lips. 'No' is always the answer.
I open my eyes and find dawn starting back at me. The ghost of your fingers caresses my hair. I reach my hand to chase it away and my palm closes over my bare nape. I had forgotten I already tried that.
Whenever I thought of you a light, almost gentle ache ran through my chest. Now I'm numb.
I want to feel again.
I do. Anger fills my head. What is the point of acknowledge it now that you're dead and I'm broken? I don't even know if I still feel that love. I don't want to.
My face sinks in my hands; the new hair on my jaw offends them. I'm not me. I never will be again.
I want to keep denying it.
I must have loved you
I'm too tired.
