When we were liars things were seamless.
You and me joking
like your lack of words didn't break my skin.
I wasn't hurting myself.
You were the cause of these wounds.
It was delicate
when I closed my eyes
and you would laugh there at me
and the way I oddly cared.
That you had stopped me from feeling,
that you had taken the heaven you promised
and blown it from your palm like stardust,
that was the twist of the dagger you put in my ribs
while looking not at me
but through me
just past the part of my brain
hardwiring my heart to yours.

When we were stupid things were brilliant.
We both thought we knew how to make things work
but you'd leave me cold.
Again
and again.
Beat me down into submissive misery
it wasn't with your fists.
Your lack of words
your lack of words
choked me harder than your bare hands ever could.
Isolated in my headspace I thought about the times
I dreamt you'd care
I dreamt you'd tell me
"I love you."
I dreamt you say it just once
without my useless heartfelt prompting,
without that look on your face
that seemed to mutter
"You are so pathetic..."
loud enough to shake the pride right out of me
and make me ashamed for ever saying those three words
in the first place.

When we were honest things weren't bittersweet.
Just bitter
with a Sweet'n Low aftertaste.
Delusioning us
like a "low fat" sign on a margarine tub.
Good enough was all we ever were to eachother.
We prided ourselves on a long-term relationship
based on a lack of motivation.
We cheered and celebrated every passing day
with a phone call that had a false statement
tagged on each end for good measure.
I don't remember ever feeling more ashamed
then when I was feeling like I'd die for you
and you were saying nothing but the usual.

When we were broken I still said I love you
silently on the phone
as the tears poured from my eyes
at the thought of that comfortable ache in my life
being detatched from my body.
Our relationship was like a tumour
I suddenly realized I'd gotten attatched to
moments after I was holding it bleeding in my palm.
But we were always broken.
It didn't matter that you'd call me to tell me your day every night.
It didn't matter that I couldn't sleep.
It didn't matter that I'd won my last game
or aced my last test
or loved you like crazy at one point in time.
I even fell for another guy right under your nose
and you didn't see it
you didn't care.
You killed me again and again
shot me down over and over
bled me like you thirsted for it
and didn't even know it.
Now you tell me how great we were,
together you and me,
and all I can think of when you say those words
is how through I am with feeling dead
and still having to answer your phone calls.


When I was happy you were anesthetic.
When you were happy I was either in your lap
or out of your face.
When we were happy-

When we were happy...


When were we?

11/16/2003

Posted on 11/17/2003
Copyright © 2024 Trisha De Gracia