Linda Studley

There Are

There are holes in my heart made by those who depart
this life without saying goodbye.
And the holes drizzle pain like a cold fine rain
and I try, but can’t figure out why.
And I try to let go and I try to step back
but the holes just get deeper and then start to crack
I feel like a penny left on a train track.
There are holes, there are holes in my heart.

My brain’s started lapsing, developing gaps
in the places that cause too much pain.
The truths that it hides turn to fiction and lies
And it’s just too damn hard to explain.
and the lapses are growing and I’m starting to find
that fiction’s no comfort in troubling times
and I can’t find important stuff there in my mind.
There are gaps, there are gaps in my brain.
There are holes, there are holes in my heart.

There are spots on my soul where I’ve fought for control
over things that I should have let lie.
Of the battles I’ve won I’m pretty sure some
were just me, in a war with my mind.
And the spots never shrink, and the spots never fade
they don’t lessen or loosen or just go away
They’re a curse to be lifted and a ghost to be laid
There are spots, there are spots on my soul
There are gaps, there are gaps in my brain
There are holes, there are holes in my heart.

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