The bags under my eyes tell stories,
just like the rings of a tree trunk.

One ring holds stories of a night spent with too much drinking.
Another holds a long night of loving someone who didn’t love me back.
But the deepest ones are from staying up all night,
waiting for a call
    or a text
        a letter
            or a visit.
Just so i know you cared.

But these will never go away,
because you never really did care anyway.