Tempus Fugit

                 By Deathswings
Lyrics are “Gates of the Country” by Black Lab and used utterly without permission


There are some things that one should never be forced to see. The blood of a comrade on your hands. The desolation of the aftermath of war. The bodies of your parents, or someone else’s. The corpse of a child. Your lover having sex with someone you care for deeply. As of last week, I’ve seen them all.
And now I sit. Twenty years old, nowhere to go, in a dirty old apartment that I somehow believed we would share one day-or sold so I could be with you forever.

April, Back in New York
31st floor
Seems somehow everything’s changed.
Kitchen too small.
Plates on the wall.
The sound of machinery...

Forever. I thought I had you forever. I thought that you were securely wrapped around me. Dependent. Docile. Unwavering. So, like the 18 year old fool I was at the time, I took off. I assumed you’d be there when I got back. I never dreamed you’d find someone else while I was away, never dreamed it would be him. Did he comfort you with his smiles? Did he make you laugh, when you thought you’d never laugh again? What did he do that allowed you to break free of me? What did he say that made you send me back your ring? What did he do to make you see what a lie you were in love with?

May. Where have you been?
Who were you running with?
Wasn’t here somewhere you used to call home?
Where is the ring?
Where is the boy who went traveling alone?

Did he woo you, or merely comfort you? Did he say what a fool I was? What a jerk? Or did he only sing my praises, until you silenced him with a kiss? Did his lips feel like velvet, did he taste like wine when he kissed you, as I so rarely did? Did he tell you things I never did, regale your beauty, say he found solace in your eyes? Was this a well planned out seduction, or something that snuck up on you both, until one day you’d become lovers instead of friends?

She is better without me.
She walks through the gates of the country
Hands at her sides.
And I smile as I watch her walk by
Somehow I see there are ships in her eyes.
And she’s better off now.

Not that it matters, really. It’s all my fault anyway. I should have loved you more, deeper, harder. I should have seen it wouldn’t work. You have the spirit of a monarch, I have less will to live than a serf. Did you know that I saw you recently, out on an outing with him? You didn’t see me, just as I never really saw you. You were laughing, happy. I can’t remember the last time I heard you laugh, saw you smile. Maybe you never did while you were with me...

June. The curtain is shut
The patterns are cut.
The maid who will wake you at dawn.
Pulls out a chair, pulls down your hair.
It’s just like you wanted...

I will never forget. I came home from my self-imposed exile, your returned ring around my neck. I came to your place, snuck in. I wanted to surprise you, show you how much I cared for you for once in my miserable, bloody existence. I was heading for the study when I heard it-the soft exhalation of a name that wasn’t mine. I crept closer to the door, praying that I wasn’t hearing what I thought I was hearing. Praying that even if I was, the name I had heard was merely an illusion, the product of an obsessive mind. Neither came true. I had given up happiness the first time I ever fired a gun.

July. What’s going on?
What am I running from?
Why am I sleeping alone on the floor?
Some people change,
Others hang on till they can’t anymore.

Unable to stop myself, I pushed open the door. God, you were beautiful. He was beautiful. The whole damn thing was beautiful. It was something out of a romance novel. Complete. The sofa faced the other way, but the floor to ceiling mirror opposite hid nothing. You had the most ecstatic look on your face, like you were seeing heaven ... or perhaps screwing an angel. You couldn’t be farther from the truth, and yet he’s closer than I’ll ever get to heaven. His face was in soft profile as he raised up enough to rain kisses down your throat. Even his hair kissed yours, honey blonde loose locks mingling with braided copper brown ones...

She is much better without me.
She walks through the gates of her country
Hands in the air.

I closed the door softly behind me. I couldn’t handle it. And I crept out. I crept to my empty home. Another dream shattered, another paradise lost. And I watch the news, read the papers. He’ll sit at your side, I suppose, become friends with your brother, laugh with your friends. I would have done none of it. I would have remained aloof, cold. You don’t need someone like that ... you never did. You needed someone like him. So good-bye, my abused love. You’re better off with him. He loves you with all his soul ... and I have no soul with which to give you love.

And I smile as I watch her walk by.
Somehow I see there are ships in her eyes...
And she’s much better off now...


Tee hee… I didn’t use anyone’s name, so I don’t need a disclaimer, do I?  Anyway, send flames, comments, likes, dislikes and naked and semi-naked pilots (hey, we can all dream, can’t we?) to Lucretia@jenovaproject.com