I'm 131 ideas south of good.
Winding down the lamp lit highway,
The lights sparkling in the dark like the Pearl necklaces you gave me every time we met.
Your lips tasted of coffee, your kiss as warm and as welcome in the Winter air,
But your indifference clings to me like a chilly second skin.
Me longing to mean something is what you find Fault In.
You scrape the surface of me, but there is so much more underneath
Shaking and awaiting your firm yet gentle exploration...
You look, you admire, and you walk away.
I remain motionless until The very Bitter End.