Catherine Magarino - basket of almosts

The book you gave me
Has been sitting on my nightstand for
Eighteen days
I've been sitting waiting here for your phone call, but
Now it's too late
I've been wanting this for so long, so bad, but
The time never came
There's nowhere to go
Nothing to hold
Just a basket of almosts to fit in my hand
A basket of almosts
To burn in my bed
A basket of almosts
To fill up my head
I often stop and catch myself from drifting off to
A foggy state
Where I imagine everything that we could be if we
Just escaped
Another place, another time
A different path, a different life
Where your father would apologize
But he won't, just like you
He can't bring himself to
Now there's nowhere to go
Nothing to hold
Just a basket of almosts to fit in my hand
A basket of almosts
To burn in my bed
A basket of almosts
To fuck with my head
I made it so easy for you
Told you just what to do
Now I find myself hating you
Or at least trying to
How did we end up this way
Drunk on all of this pain
(I'm drinking, I'm thinking)
I guess that you really have nothing left to say
Just a basket of almosts
A basket of almosts
Like "I'm almost ready"
"I almost love you"
"I almost need you"
"I almost trust you"
But you never could write me a part in your play
You chose to downgrade all the choices we made
To a basket of almosts
A basket of almosts
A basket of almosts
There's nowhere to go
Nothing to hold
Just a basket of almosts to fit in my hand
A basket of almosts
To burn in my bed
A basket of almosts
To fill up my head

Written by:
Catherine Magarino

Publisher:
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