Hold Your Hand

Inspired by Lay Me Down a song performed by Sam Smith featuring John Legend.

 

Yes, I see – I feel – the emptiness that you have left behind in place of you.

I feel your presence is long gone. The space that once was yours is now empty.

Your voice, your laugh, the joy that you once brought – all gone… to say it out loud it feels so wrong.

All that time, all the plans that we made. Our hopes and dreams now shattered and worthless.

Didn’t even tell me that you’d be gone.

I’ve just been here waiting for far too long.

 

Chorus

Can I just hold your hand?

That’s all I ask for.

All I ask for.

Don’t you understand?

That’s all I ask for.

I don’t want more.

 

Good music makes me wish I could sing every once in a while. You should definitely listen to the original! If I had the talent then I would have added a link to a rendition of this version of the song… but I don’t – so I won’t. Just imagine it being done by Sam Smith and enjoy – hopefully. 

6 Degrees of Separation

Sticking to song titles this is one of my favourite songs by one of my favourite bands: The Script. When you are separated from something or someone you love deeply you may undergo some of these symptoms, more than aptly described by this talented group of artists.

 

“First, you think the worst is a broken heart.”

True line I believe. I think everyone has a different timeframe before it suddenly hits. You’re no longer tied to that person but your emotions – your heart – disagree. That hurts: what’s worse is you think it’s the worst part but it’s not.

 
What’s gonna kill you is the second part.”

The song never does state what the “second part” is. Unfortunately (or should I say fortunately) I don’t have enough first-hand experience to write from first person viewpoint but I can try assume what this is. It’s probably the memories of all the good things done together rushing through one’s head… and the realisation that it all came to nought.

 
“And the third, is when your world splits down the middle.”

You see them at every turn. They are in your mind’s eye the whole time and like some kind of stubborn cancer their memory just won’t go away; even when you try the not-so-chemo-therapy from friends and family.

 
“And fourth, you’re gonna think that you fixed yourself.”

“I’m fine now. I’m ok. I’m better off without them.”

You say it once, twice. Maybe you even start to believe it.

 
“Fifth, you see them out with someone else.”

How can they move on so quickly? Don’t they feel what you feel? You dread to ask but have to nonetheless:

“Was it… was it ever real?”

 
“And the sixth, is when you admit that you may have messed up a little.”

“I wish I’d never…”

Both regret and acceptance.  The ache remains but the separation should be complete.

PS I really enjoy listening to this song and would suggest you give it a listen, preferably the clean version because the original does have a word or two you wouldn’t want to hear a toddler saying.

Don’t Break His Heart

“Don’t break his heart, his achy breaky heart. I just don’t think you understand.”

Bastille’s cover of ‘We Can’t Stop’ is nothing short of incredible, especially for me. I know how taste differs from person to person so I will say that line in particular strikes a chord in me.

I considered writing about a man with a heart of steel just the other day, I still might because come to think of it it’s an intriguing concept. But a heart of steel – that’s normally a façade. Men have hearts of flesh too.

“Women are more in touch with their emotions.”

Is this a stereotype? I hear this statement often. It’s often coupled with another statement diminishing emotion in men. I can’t speak for all men but from my own personal experience what you see on the outside doesn’t necessarily correlate with what’s on the inside.

I’m rarely envious (this comes with a lot of effort from myself and my parents) but there is a group of people that I can honestly say I’m envious of… those who cry. I’d give a lung to be like that. Unfortunately I’m not. My tear glands are among the most miserly in all the world. How I wish it were not so. I’ll be happy as can be on the inside but unable to show it on the outside. It makes me feel like I’ve cheated whoever has made me happy. If it can be fixed trust me, I will do just that… but this links to the crux of this post. I fail to show my emotions as well as I’d like… that doesn’t mean they aren’t there. It is just like a bride behind her veil by the altar. Just because she’s hidden behind her veil doesn’t mean she’s not there. If you remove the veil you’ll see her in all her beauty. If you can remove the veil to a man’s emotions. Well… I believe it could be a wonderful thing.

Bastille adds lines to the song which didn’t exist prior, in Miley Cyrus’ original. The added lined are: “Don’t break his heart, his achy breaky heart. I just don’t think you understand…”

Achy breaky… doesn’t that just bleed vulnerability to you? His heart isn’t steel – it’s just brittle.

Even the way he sings has a brokenness to it. It’s almost like he’s screaming out: there’s a heart to be broken underneath all that macho bravado. The pain of it being broken is just as real. It’s just hard to understand.

My Flower You’re A Liar

With your word of honour you promised we’d always be together, forever.

The day seems to take forever to arrive.

The day for us to finally be together.

 

My Flower.

You are the only one – it’s true.

My heart belongs only to you.

 

In the evening, love of my life, I stare at your pictures…

Thinking about the massive distance between us.

 

The Response

Lies!

All lies!

You’re telling lies!

I only ever remember you as a liar.

Sweetheart, it’s true, you’ve always been one to warp the truth.

My one and only – my love from early youth.

From you I shy away,

Lest you bring me pain.

 

Rough translation of a Shona and Ndebele song my high school choir sang – with a slight tweak.