It could be that I don’t know enough about either to gain a clear perspective on what I’ve aimed. In time I’ve learned the cracks in your smile and the way you say my name. How it remains detached as if the utterance fills a void you need to have.
I can’t count the number of times my heart has fallen from its warm nest only to be picked up and put back. Each time a little worse for the wear. Some kerosene to the branches and one match would take care of it all.
If you really knew, you’d know how much I long to escape from this pretentious existence. Sometimes, I know you see me staring into that very void you love…and I’m thinking what it would be like to disappear. Who would miss me? Who would care?
