Friday, February 17, 2012
I can't see you.
You're a ghost of a fictitious past.
I gaze at the outline and wonder where that time went
why words were said
were the actions dead.
Why go back when back was wrong?
Don't get along, little doggie.
pitterpat. pitterpat. pitter. pity.
Is this hurt forbidden-
knowing, deep in your mind, the truth is perpetually hidden?
It's all messed up.
and I'm away...
Thursday, February 2, 2012
spoken behind backs
ya'll don't know how to act
but both putting on a face
that doesn't hint at a trace- of hurt.
You just skirt.
Skirt around the issues
and try to push away the "i miss yous"
secretly yearning for the tissues
that will comfort more than this friend.
I tell you, this doesn't have to be the end.
You're both just jaded
but instead of talking it out, you play dead.
Both hoping the other will take that leap,
putting their heart out on their sleeve
and ripping through the resentment
but you've both found apathetic contentment to just sit
for the other
like the world
and the other
JUST DO SOMETHING.