Sunday Scribblings (Clean)

This week's word is Clean:

As I sit alone on the patio, staring off into the rain-soaked semi-lit darkness, I think of all the things I should have said, should not have done, and the person that is part of me. We both wanted something pure, unending, and impossible. Accordingly, our time, and by that, you know of what I speak, included painful realities, tears and frustration. The words I have written and spoken throughout time have started to wear thin, I am sure, as they bother even me. So instead, I have written a song, or lyrics, or something. It may not read different than the others, as there is no background music, no instruments, and my band members are sadly absent, but it is, at least in my head, something revolutionary. The ballad, in all its failings, goes like this:

I want to tell you that you are the bridge between the person I am and the one I long to be
I wish I could have put my actions where my mouth is, and followed through on my dreams
But I did not, and nobody, not even you, knows the sleepless, destructive nights this caused
You are my muse, freedom, someone that keeps my struggling head above the waters edge

If offered the chance to give it up, snare all this world could offer, but lose the memories of you, I would pass
There is nothing, regardless of value, worth sacrificing all I have accumulated with you
The pain may be debilitating at times, and the tears often, but the life with you in it is worth it
When I was broken, dirty, and covered in shit, you were there for me, pulled me from my knees, cleaned me off, and gave me hope

I will love you till my dying day, regardless of what comes my way
You buried me with kindness, peppered me with beauty, and gave me the strength I needed to carry on
At all stops, through this time, I have turned to you for guidance, and you never flinched, even when the effort took a piece of your soul with it
I know the cost I have have extracted, and know I will never be able to repay, but hope this rhyme helps in some small way

If offered the chance to give it up, snare all this world could offer, but lose the memories of you, I would pass
There is nothing, regardless of value, worth sacrificing all I have accumulated with you
The pain may be debilitating at times, and the tears often, but the life with you in it is worth it
When I was broken, dirty, and covered in shit, you were there for me, pulled me from my knees, cleaned me off, and gave me hope
. . . .

It is not complete, I know as much. Hell, it doesn't even make sense. Honestly, I lack the talent to make this meaningful, the patience to fully express myself, and the absurdity to sing.