The Missing Piece

Somehow stuck in between here and there,
in and out a place you’ve never really seen,
absent-minded heart, it told you not to tell
words I couldn’t hear elsewhere.

Strength fails you in the most simple things.

You missed so much of me, shut years in a shell;
it’s all about, you know, the little games you play,
the little tricks you use to silence your feelings.
Next to me, you’re many miles away.

Now I’m dropping a line
out of paper and ink,
I’ll be the missing link
between you and me
and our drifting heartbeats.
I’ll be what you can’t be;
I’ll build the missing piece,
and I’ll make it shine.

The storm will do its work, hopefully.
Pitching, rolling, we’d better not bother
and sink the ship. See, the hull is thin!
We’ll be what we will be: two sailors lost at sea.

Voices don’t speak loud underwater.

Hide-and-seek, none of us ever win;
cold and sick, never holding my gaze.
Blood ties don’t bind strangers together,
and time won’t buy the wasted rags of days.

But I’m dropping a line
out of paper and ink,
I’ll be the missing link
between you and me
and our drifting heartbeats.
I’ll be what you can’t be;
I’ll build the missing piece,
a piece that fits;
yeah, I’ll build the missing piece,
and I’ll make it all shine.

 © Emilie