Shaky Hands

 I am wearing your old black shirt
I kept it on till it didn't hurt
get down and disassociate
separates the weak from the great

I can listen to our old songs,
I can even sing along
it's not exactly I miss you, but
I still notice you are gone

They said "honey, run for shelter
cause a cold fronts coming strong"
it's a whole lot of something but
I think they call it moving on

Well I gave away the title
I swore hand on a bible
that you were the best that I'd had
and now I consider you bad.

I miss the conversations
not so much the trepidation
you always had shaky hands.