Indifference House
That day we wandered into that house by the bay
It had a cold feel about it but we were together, nothing to fear
We were holding hands tight but still I screamed when I saw the corpse
The house whistled with a gust of wind but there was nothing else to hear.
She held a tiny journal in her hands
After a bit, I slowly picked it up and read it aloud
“He doesn't care, doesn't love me ever
“His indifference is a weight that leaves me bowed.”
I looked up at you anxiously, but your eyes
Warm and loving, reassured me.
You looked around and said, “The house is cheap, a pretty view
“I really like it, and what do you think?”
“I'm a little afraid,” I confessed.
“Oh now,” he scolded, “It'll be fun!
“Tomorrow when we're married
“We'll live here forever as one.”
Reluctant still, I agreed
The next week we moved in
After a day or two, you slept alone,
joking that my snoring had worn your patience thin.
The house was strange, it seemed to have a will
It obviously affected the mind
Every time I looked at the clocks
The numbers were the same, all in a line.
The weather was quiet, always a haze
I tried to paint our kitchen yellow, to shed a little cheer
But the very next day the walls were gray
I tried again and again, finally gave up: you tossed me a beer
You grew colder as the days went by
Blankness in your once-soft voice. . . I realized you didn't care
It didn't matter that I had a bad day and wanted your comfort
Didn't matter that I'm right here and you're right there.
Finally words tumbled out of my mouth
“Why are you so distant anymore, love?”
I reached out sadly and touched your face
You stared at me as if from miles above.
I drew back, oddly feeling ashamed of myself
Being so forward, initiating a touch
I suddenly don't know what happened to my confidence
When I knew that you loved me, so very much.
I leaned against the gray wall and closed my tired eyes
Wishing you were making a noise other than silence
Wishing there was something, anything other than the frozen days
I feel I'm losing my mind, oh might I resort to violence?
After a few years of nothing
I learn how to sink inside of my mind
My lonely thoughts chase each other throughout their ways
The numbers line up again, is it a sign?
One day you come over and stare down at my graying head
I look up, can it be, you're paying attention to your wife, yes, me!
“I'm sick of you,” you say, and I felt my soul shatter
“I'm leaving, pack my things
“Leave me alone, and that's the end of the matter.”
That tone, your heart's coldness
I suddenly find I can't move
There's nothing worth reaching for
If I'm not allowed to love you.
You slung your pack over your shoulder,
Threw me a lazy salute and began to walk away
Can't feel, can't see, sight is completely empty
Sitting here, back against the wall, staring out at the bay
There's a small book in my hands
I look at it then begin to write
Stolen love, useless demands
All of these are recorded by withered hands.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Thirty years later, a young couple sneaks into my house
They're snooping around hand in hand, laughing together
They stumble across my body and scream
Weeds have long strangled me and I've a head of wild heather.
The boy touches my head and it rolls away
The walls are still forever gray
The girl picks up the book and begins to read
“He no longer cares, he hasn't spoken for days. . .”
The boy twirls her away and cries, “Oh let's move in here, it's a lovely place!
“Think of all the love-filled days in this house by the bay!”
The girl shrugs and glances at me
“This house feels cold, is this where you want to spend your days?”
He draws her close and kisses her long
“This house is where we belong!”
They dance away, to the chapel, and I feel a dusty scream building
The gray walls and clocks' numbers in a row always again leering.
It had a cold feel about it but we were together, nothing to fear
We were holding hands tight but still I screamed when I saw the corpse
The house whistled with a gust of wind but there was nothing else to hear.
She held a tiny journal in her hands
After a bit, I slowly picked it up and read it aloud
“He doesn't care, doesn't love me ever
“His indifference is a weight that leaves me bowed.”
I looked up at you anxiously, but your eyes
Warm and loving, reassured me.
You looked around and said, “The house is cheap, a pretty view
“I really like it, and what do you think?”
“I'm a little afraid,” I confessed.
“Oh now,” he scolded, “It'll be fun!
“Tomorrow when we're married
“We'll live here forever as one.”
Reluctant still, I agreed
The next week we moved in
After a day or two, you slept alone,
joking that my snoring had worn your patience thin.
The house was strange, it seemed to have a will
It obviously affected the mind
Every time I looked at the clocks
The numbers were the same, all in a line.
The weather was quiet, always a haze
I tried to paint our kitchen yellow, to shed a little cheer
But the very next day the walls were gray
I tried again and again, finally gave up: you tossed me a beer
You grew colder as the days went by
Blankness in your once-soft voice. . . I realized you didn't care
It didn't matter that I had a bad day and wanted your comfort
Didn't matter that I'm right here and you're right there.
Finally words tumbled out of my mouth
“Why are you so distant anymore, love?”
I reached out sadly and touched your face
You stared at me as if from miles above.
I drew back, oddly feeling ashamed of myself
Being so forward, initiating a touch
I suddenly don't know what happened to my confidence
When I knew that you loved me, so very much.
I leaned against the gray wall and closed my tired eyes
Wishing you were making a noise other than silence
Wishing there was something, anything other than the frozen days
I feel I'm losing my mind, oh might I resort to violence?
After a few years of nothing
I learn how to sink inside of my mind
My lonely thoughts chase each other throughout their ways
The numbers line up again, is it a sign?
One day you come over and stare down at my graying head
I look up, can it be, you're paying attention to your wife, yes, me!
“I'm sick of you,” you say, and I felt my soul shatter
“I'm leaving, pack my things
“Leave me alone, and that's the end of the matter.”
That tone, your heart's coldness
I suddenly find I can't move
There's nothing worth reaching for
If I'm not allowed to love you.
You slung your pack over your shoulder,
Threw me a lazy salute and began to walk away
Can't feel, can't see, sight is completely empty
Sitting here, back against the wall, staring out at the bay
There's a small book in my hands
I look at it then begin to write
Stolen love, useless demands
All of these are recorded by withered hands.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Thirty years later, a young couple sneaks into my house
They're snooping around hand in hand, laughing together
They stumble across my body and scream
Weeds have long strangled me and I've a head of wild heather.
The boy touches my head and it rolls away
The walls are still forever gray
The girl picks up the book and begins to read
“He no longer cares, he hasn't spoken for days. . .”
The boy twirls her away and cries, “Oh let's move in here, it's a lovely place!
“Think of all the love-filled days in this house by the bay!”
The girl shrugs and glances at me
“This house feels cold, is this where you want to spend your days?”
He draws her close and kisses her long
“This house is where we belong!”
They dance away, to the chapel, and I feel a dusty scream building
The gray walls and clocks' numbers in a row always again leering.