Friday, April 30, 2010

Agony thrives under my rib cage

I pull my jacket around me tighter
As I walk away.
This is what’s best for us.

I try to convince myself.

You’re sick,
And I’m in too much pain.
This love is too strained.
So go back to your addictions,
As I go back to my solemn world.
You’ll torture yourself,
Comparing those girls to me.
And I’ll torture myself,
Waiting.

And when I finally dry the tears from my hands,
You’ll show up.
And you’ll be ready,
But I won’t
Because
This love has bled out too long.

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