They tell me I'm wrong but I'll continue to stumble along
and forget my name; it was never important to begin with
I think it was more for them than for me and I am tired of a life
bending over backwards to accomodate what you
felt you need and wanted and were dying to find out
But remained unimpressed when you discovered that what I had
was not an answer per se but just a vortex
in which you could immerse yourself and come out none the wiser
3 days later
with disheveled hair and a renewed desire to never return
though to him or me you couldn't recall
I didn't love you but I never said I did and though I heard you say so
many times I forgave you because you were in a tight spot and I was half there as a friend as much as anything else. Some friend, yes.
And I'm bored of continually writing about the same things
as if it was all I thought about
when there are a million desires I feel on a daily basis more important and, indeed, poetic than how I feel about you and I
though I struggle to put those into words and, over the years,
I think I am working towards developing a single unified statement regarding the whole mess;
I guess you will concur that those about you are better than those about her, no?
Oh but I guess hers were written in a time when I was more innocent with my emotions...
but, you must remember that I was also much more self conscious then
and I think I was struggling with a lot of things that I preferred not to address and instead stuck with the
'I have loved and I have lost' approach to explain everything
when in reality I don't think it was love and in the long run the lost was for the best;
she was kind enough to give herself to me absolutely but she had not that much going on that did not relate solely to her and she could justify any of her actions based on her claim that I hated myself
which was not 100% true but, needless to say, I had the last laugh...
do you mind that my thoughts about you become eulogies to her?
But anyway I hope this finds you well and remember that
I never mean anything I do or say and I am equally confused
by whatever comes out of my mouth and wipe the sweat from your forehead and forget I ever called because you're staying there
and I will be here and everything will remain static until February I think, though they've closed down my favourite bar
and I assume Thursday nights aren't as fun
Stop sobbing. You've lost me. Your story is fractured and self-contradictory. I think your hair is beautiful. Yes it was me but I was working as part of a team. No one was hurt. It's on my wall, though you can see the guilt in my eyes in the photograph. Goodbye.
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