will this wander/lust of mine ever be sated?
a hobby of mine
seems to be digging
through the skeleton closets of my past
oh what fun
i don't know what i'm looking for
but it has got to be here somewhere
i find a box marked zero zeroes
and blow off the dust
yet stop short from opening it
with a foreboding sense of hurt
there was pain in there
when i closed it last
has the statue of limitations expired
or has it accrued interest?
i open it...
we were kids, we weren't ready
i keep telling myself
chalking this up to adolescence -
doesn't change any of these scars, though
all i know
is that they led to many more
as i tried to find a substitution
everything since she left
just a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy
seems all i can find
is diluted versions of her...
how do i reconcile this last decade
when she finally picks up the phone
and starts finishing my sentences?

No comments:

Post a Comment