I was just driving, alone in my car,
when I caught a scent,
it was you and I didn’t know
where it had come from
but I smelled it and smiled some,
it hadn’t been long
since you were there.
And I slid around some
in snow they hadn’t plowed,
tried to make sense of my head,
and from senseless 4 AM vows,
and knew I simply had to wait
felt glad I’d learned to
not a second too late.
There’s no space left to deviate.
No play to make except for straight.
I spaced out that night looking up
at ancient ceiling tiles. Some
black, some white, some nights are diamonds.
Looked at the ceiling and thought
to myself, or maybe said aloud,
I don’t know who was around,
there’s nowhere else in the world I need to be,
this is everything I need,
the clouds go by, the years recede,
I have to do what speaks to me.
And I looked around at the lovers
and smiling faces, the people off
planes in from faraway places,
and I saw a light that I see when it’s right,
maybe it’s all the Christmas,
but I still think that I’m right,
no matter how many times I say it
the light in your eyes is a song
and you played it.
And I was supposed to go somewhere tonight
and see somebody, supposed to do things,
but I had to decide
that I needed just to sit alone,
needed to settle in at home.
It’s not always easy but it keeps getting
better, I’m mostly under control,
mostly above the weather,
but some nights I just have to be,
limit how far that I can see,
sometimes it hurts a little bit to see
in your friends’ eyes
the reflection of your history.
Sometimes I don’t want to know,
sometimes I just can’t make the show,
sometimes I disappear but by now
I assume that you know,
I come back, nobody knows.
No matter how alone I keep choosing
to be, I never forget what’s been given
to me, what welcome could mean,
it may be somebody’s nightmare,
but for me: closer to dream,
(nobody is that clean)
no sayonara scenes,
just smiles on faces,
just me. Just me.
And I drove myself home
and the smell of you faded
past all those houses I lived in,
parks that I played in,
places long since renovated
I learn how to say what I’ve been saying,
I don’t know whether
I’ll smell your hair again
I hope that I will but if I don’t, I understand.
And the kids get ready for the show,
and the Christmas shoppers drive on home,
the Metrobus is ten minutes late–
accident on Torbay Road,
somebody’s crying to themself,
somebody’s learning how to sing,
somebody’s putting on a ring,
somebody’s learning ugly things.
Somebody’s singing in their car,
two are locking eyes across shopping carts,
and I am on my way to home,
and I am on my way to home.