You saw through me
that first day you stepped in that garage
your eyes sharp,
making their incisions,
finding things even I did not
know.
They call people like you
old souls,
your knifelike philosophy
they name intuition.
Sweetheart, I'm sorry
I couldn't save you from seeing all of me
I couldn't stop my tired feet from running
you couldn't save me from myself.
Yet you still came with me,
you rode the elevator down just to see
what I was hiding from
and you found her, Anna,
in all her glory, tumbling from the window.
You cut your foot on the broken wine glass,
just like I do every time.
She laughed at you like she laughed at me
and you ran from that cursed hotel
while I stood and let her rip my heart out
again.