killedwithkarate

What Gave It Away Was the Fact That You Used to Write Equally Lovelorn Poetry, and You Didn't This Time.
(Yes, I Read Your Journal.)

I tried to focus on Richler's words
While waiting for you to show up.
You pulled this stunt a week ago.

Another week before that,
We were this great nervous energy
And loaded appologies
Stuck out as these weird little fragments
Voiced by someone else.
You sounded really honest,
Which took me by surprise.

I'm not going to lie,
I wanted to pound my fists
Against your collar bones, yelling:
"Don't you ever scare me like that again."
But this sincere sense of relief came over me
And in that moment, all I could say was:
"I'm just glad you're back."

The next day, I said it was just like a TV show,
Complete with background music.

For a while, in my neurosis,
I really thought you weren't coming back
And I said to myself:
"If he returns, try to make it work.
Tell him that he scares you
And you can't put your finger on why,
But that you're not planning on going anywhere."

It was just one of those things, you know?
A few sad attempts,
But we never really made it off the ground.
That kind of kills me.

When you're not singing
Or talking about things I don't understand
While gesticulating wildly with
Near-miss swipes at my face,
You're not so bad, kid.
I know I acted like it sometimes,
But you never once embarassed me.

It's funny that it takes a break-up of sorts
For me to finally let my guard down
And for you to show that, at one point, you cared.
Part of me just wants to tag your ear
And come find you once we've changed.
I know it's for the best, but damn...