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.