you stood and spoke
like the women before had
and i felt it coming

you approached the front
and rising up in me
the stammering, wilting pain

you laid it out for the room
not even half your horrors
and i just wanted to die for you

because i would
selfish as it would be
the clichéd fatal love

We talk of our failures
past present and future
We forget to acknowledge

what you say he always says
the longest way round
is the shortest way home