Sunday, 5 February 2012

should be asleep


silly of me to imagine you wanted to know my truth any more than the next man
naïve to think that my news could do anything but move you to wish you could sever these ties
gaze in fearful awe each time my number hits your screen
and wonder for a split second each time
if somehow down that unopened line i could hear your mind stutter over whether or not to pick up
whether or not to utter lies or keep them inside storing them up under one bigger other

i would run from you if i could, if i remembered how these laces should go, if i could make up for these breached lives
but i don't, can't, won't, instead trip over trailing tongue, flailing, unwise, lay bare thoughts meant for inside
collapse again into tangled heap as i infer more from your silence than you ever knew it could imply

sunday 5th feb 2012 3.19am