retsin

i look at you and i think i recognize the pieces. i wonder if you even know who you are today or what you are feeling. your eyes are sad, and your memories confused. faded histories cloud your judgements and affect the decisions you make. i try to make you see beyond the reason and to the possibility and feel my actions are without purpose. do my words even get read or do you file them under what was and could never have been? and i listen and take my role, define my character, carve it into my mind each time we get together. the strange moments, and the awkward glances, the times when everything is wierd and perfect in the span of a few minutes in time. and i'm still trying to figure it all, if it makes me happier or sadder to know what i know to feel what i see. should i walk away, should i reach out, or do i wait? i get so sick of waiting for you to come around sometimes, waiitng for you to do what i think it is possible for you to want to do.