It’s Dave Matthews weather again and no one knows that more than me, but you.
My heart curls up in a sour knot because I know you are far away.
Don’t you know that things aren’t right without you?
The world keeps moving, plans are made.
And still, you are missing.
What helps mend the bond that has been torn?
Turning each of us into beasts.
Who are we when we lose our minds to rage?
Scared and afraid to lose our grips and cause more pain.
I miss you.
Just down the road, but a million miles away and ten thousand apologies apart.
How do you speak what can not be said?
Recognitions can be dealt, but it falls flat.
Corrections can be made, but they seem empty.
Words meant to soften,
are received sharp, and quick like a knife.
Of course, instrumental solos are our native language.
So, lets reconcile to the sounds of violins and saxophones.
Lets remember the trumpets and horns.
Lets close our eyes and listen carefully to the details that elude us in conversation.
Appreciate what always weaves us back together