i'm sitting on his carpet
breathing in the scent of his room;
the one i used to smell on his shirt
when he'd hold me close

and i am amazed at his ability to
look me in the eye and
say exactly what he feels
[even though it tears me apart]

so i lose all my dignity
and cry into my hands
[the tears through my fingertips]
and confessing
that i was wrong, and
begging him
to forgive me

"i have no place for you," he says,
and how can i argue with that?

11/11/2004

Author's Note: i always wanted to be in his room. when i finally got what i wanted, everything went wrong.

Posted on 11/11/2004
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