in this two by four world
i look at you and see the truth
in all those things i'm trying to avoid:
the little uncertainties that clench my fingers
into tense muscles and make my blood feel as though
it were cottage cheese under my veins.
the deadly doubt of nothingness and
not knowing tomorrow.
why do you want to make me tea?
i just told you it was over.
i just told you that the foundation you built
was meaningless and you stood there in your bluejeans
looking saner than i've ever hoped to be,
and told me it was okay.
why would you rub my shoulders?
why would you comfort me?
i am nothing but the farce you fear in things,
green-cotton skirt folder over my knees
and i'll never forget the way they looked just then:
crossed into the shame that you put them in,
tight and wound like regret should look
and i wanted you to doubt me then.
to tell me that i was worth another shot,
but see: i wanted to deceive you.
i wanted you to think that there was nothing there
because i was so afraid of knowing you'd be fine without me,
and here you are not blinking in your understanding
as though to comfort me is having me gone.
i get that. you just seemed to not need me so hard
that i thought you'd be better off.
i guess that's it.

06/04/2008

Posted on 06/05/2008
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