Octobers (From a Grave)

Walking through these Octobers
I try to gather closure
I crash upon your shoulder
To make-believe it’s over

I let the words fall from me
Replacing names with novelty
The second hand moves softly
To sign the page sincerely

Walking amid all the greenery
That feeds upon the dead
Thinking about what it means to be
Sprouting fourth from shreds
I was convinced it was common sense
To use what I had saved
So even the flowers I brought for you
Were stolen from a grave

To find is only fleeting
As finding turns to keeping
You greet me when I’m dreaming
And I pretend I’m sleeping

Walking amid all the greenery
That feeds upon the dead
Thinking about what it means to be
Sprouting fourth from shreds
Still I’m convinced that it’s common sense
To use what I have saved
So even the flowers I bring to you
I stole them from a grave

I never made a promise
But if I’m being honest
I might as well have told you
That I can never hold you