It's not you it's me
I love my yard, more so in the summer or spring than any other.
It's were I get my thinkin' done.
"Time's a wastin'" she said from her usual perch inside the kitchen.
Or more accurately translated, "your wastin' [i]my[/i] time."
Well she won't have to worry bout that anymore. Not where she's goin' anyway. And besides I've heard the sunsets are just breath-taking this time of year.
That's the problem I figure, everyone's in such a hurry to get somewhere that they don't really care where they end up. Take her for instance. Always runnin' her mouth off, pushin' my buttons, lookin' for the next big thing... Just look where [i]that[/i] got her.
I always knew my bite would be worse than my bark. I guess I could say she ask for it, but then again who really ask to have their brains knocked out. That's a pretty odd request I'd say. It's not really what she said or even how she said it. It's the fact that she's been sayin' it since we met.
Well one things for sure, it's gonna take more than some ole bar of soap to wash this off my hands.
She looks so peaceful too. Three and a half years and she ain't ever looked that calm... or pretty.
By no stretch of the imagination am I sayin' she was ugly though. She was a real beaut especially when she'd get all dolled up and we'd paint the town.
And that smile... Oh man, she could stop a humming bird with that smile. Her problem was she never cared to use it. What a waste.
I reckon I've lingered long enough, so with the slam of the screen door I'm off. You deserved better babe but deservin' and gettin' are always complicated.
It's still early. I could be on the next train by noon and from there who knows. You've been a good yare and I think I'll miss you most of all. I wish I could say more but I've always hated long goodbyes...time is a wastin' after all.