I Pick Up The Shell

You must think I still love you
You must think that I need you
above all others
Or is it I
who still thinks of you

Is it because I spilled my soul
Is it because at one point in time
which you scarcely remember now

I felt that you were all mine
and I belonged to you
a place where only we
were living
a place where we were still in motion


Oh, but don't worry, darling
I have erased the record
You are free to go

I have reconstructed the past
You are free to go

Little remains for me to say to you
Little remains to revisit

Yet that little memory
looms so large
and now forboding

No!
It is the past
and will never be again

Oh, God help me, here I go
once more returning
to the place where we met
now an empty beach
caressed by a lonely sea

And in my hour of desparation
I see the abandoned shell
lying helplessly still
as if to mock me
or to remind me
no life within

I pick up the shell
and hold it to my ear
In it's sad echo lie all of your words
that I tried to erase

back to haunt me


And what I hear I now enable
by my desire

You still love me

I pick up the shell


I pick up the shell

God save me from the past
Which washes over me
Like the eternal waves of ancient mystery

I pick up the shell
and to my listening ear I hold it


Your words rush in
mixing with the strong emotion
of sounds of love and furious longing
as if they never ever left me
and will forever be

Do you still love me

I pick up the shell

I miss you
I miss what once surrounded us

I still hear the sound of your voice
even if only an explainable phenomena

I pick up the shell
all of your words
waiting

you still love me

I ache
And yet refuse to be abandoned


I pick up the shell
and tears rain on me.

salty tears

of sweet remembrance

returning to this endless ocean

rain and rain and rain
on me

Would God I could resist temptation
and just let go of sweet remembrance
but where shall I go now


There is nothing better

Return me to this endless ocean
and let those tears of sweet remembrance
rain and rain and rain
rain down on me

It no longer even matters
that you ever gave your substance
or that I had blissful moments


The shell speaks not of what you gave me
It's voice is more
and ever constant

Here I am

And this is what

I gave to me

I pick up the shell
Of my own volition

And for my own

edification

I pick up the shell