When she’s drinking,
She says things I don’t think I believe,
and I’m not one to practice to deceive.
But I’d be lying if I told you,
That I’m not dying when I hold you.
And the more I get to know you,
The more of me I’ll show you.
When I say, “I love you,”
She reaffirms that I’m a nice guy.
When I say, “I love you,”
She reaffirms how much she likes me,
But, she can’t say, “I love you.”
She can’t say, “I love you.”
It just might take to long.
When I’m angry,
I say things I know I shouldn’t believe,
And one day, I’ll say what I can’t retrieve.
But, it’s been so long since I’ve held you,
And it’s been days since I felt your smile,
And I guess I’ll just get over it for a while.
The curse of remembering,
This concept of dismembering.
What I wish I was,
Why I’m not because:
You said no because you couldn’t
But I know it’s ’cause you wouldn’t.
It just might take too long.
— Rich Williams c. 1998
Rich Williams 