from 9/14/05
11:44 pm

Somehow, I had imagined you changed.
somehow I thought you'd come back with your mind made up
and I could believe you for a minute
as you're sprawled across my bed, a rather pleasant echo
and you look at me and say,
you're so unsuspecting

but what is there to suspect when I know it's always there
you'll go away and I can read about it later
the way you felt, the things you wanted to do
and maybe I'll figure something out in the pages of lines
I write about you

here's a line for every promise you made,
though you never said a word
and here's a line for me thinking, that when you left
you'd take our problems with you
and lose them somewhere, and come back clean

but what have I gained, save your claims that I shaped you
and ruined your life?
how can you say such things without any hope,
any desire to make it right?

I think maybe you were honest once
open and untouched by everyone around you
or maybe that's just my imagination