You know how it feels, don't you?
Pastor John goes home to beat his wife
And inform his son on right and wrong.
When summer befalls the broken, they
Escape into the tepid, somber night.
You know how it feels, tell me
How long does it take to heal?
The fragile drink their grief away
And when they cry, their tears
Are insipid as the insides of abalone.
You know how it feels, teach me
How to replace anguish with vacancy.
She'll starve herself until he vanishes,
And then waste away in his absence,
Still as heavy as the child she once was.
You know how it feels, touch me.
Corrupt what the perverse find comfort in,
And taint the water that keeps them young.
As the sky grows darker, they'll forget the
Feelings of distress and light a fire for the sun.
You know how it feels, don't you?
Share your stories, weary traveler, show me light.
Tell me the tale of what autumn once was.
Don't look back at what she used to be.
Your heart beats in sync to the tune of her elegy.
