you called me up.
it'd been a while
because i'd felt bad.
you needed help moving
out of that 'memory-infested
******' ****-hole' as you called it.
a rental truck stood in wait outside your house,
as did i.
we didn't wait long.
your face was the same, your body different.
your body screamed late night binge,
watching home videos
and crying into your takeout.
having a wife
and then suddenly not having a wife
will do that to ya.
you wiped a bit of sweat from your forehead
before it could gain traction
and trail down your face
like a salty
man-tear.
when we were done you looked exhausted,
and it was growing late,
but i was scared to leave.
"do you want a beer?" you said
so i think you were scared too.
we sat down on the couch, staring at the wall
almost pretending there was a tv mounted on it.
i resisted the urge
to tell you i was sorry,
*** who cares,
really, and
what if it killed the mood?
looking back
the mood was ****** anyway,
and i should've just hugged you.