November Rain

Your headlights illuminated
the closed blinds of my bedroom window
as you pulled into the driveway
when you came home.
Sometimes, I see the inverse
when walking around the neighborhood at night;
animated silhouettes of families making dinner
hidden by blinds. And it makes me think.
Some say that I'm like the radio frequency
of your favorite hometown radio station;
tune out for too long and I'm hard to re-locate
when you get back home.
I live in the in-betweens. Constantly forced to
repeat myself like 1AM on daylight savings time;
consistently steamrolling through weekdays
to skip to the weekends; telling you how I feel
when I wake up in the middle of the night
for a glass of water. I can't help crying sometimes.
Life is so beautiful, but it sure is short. You've been
sitting in your car in my driveway for an hour now,
but I swear that it feels like a lifetime.
Everybody needs somebody.