In keeping with tradition, stranger,
we will walk past one another and
not say a word.
I’ll glance nervously at converse on the
weedy walk; you’ll distract yourself
a nearby bird.
I’ll never know how you’ll cry alone
between linens tonight because you
realized you feel nothing.
You’ll never know how I pacify myself
with myths and lies just to keep
my composition.
We’ll both be lonely and never know
why. We both will always ache for
something we can’t name.
Feb 2, 2013
Feb 2, 2013 at 5:01 PM UTC
In keeping with tradition, stranger,
we will walk past one another and
not say a word.
I’ll glance nervously at converse on the
weedy walk; you’ll distract yourself
a nearby bird.
I’ll never know how you’ll cry alone
between linens tonight because you
realized you feel nothing.
You’ll never know how I pacify myself
with myths and lies just to keep
my composition.
We’ll both be lonely and never know
why. We both will always ache for
something we can’t name.
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