The last thing I wrote
About you
Was nicer than I expected
It didn’t reflect my façade
Or yours
As usual the truth just slipped
Out
I stared at the words
Black and white blots on the page
Looking for some meaning
Or for you
I stared so long the letters stared to jumble
They floated around and mashed together
But there was no meaning
There was no you
There wasn’t even me
At least not the person I know
There was
Hurt, regret and longing
A mess that reflected us perfectly
No way of telling which way was up
But, as usual
Down was easily visible in the words splayed across the page
And we were both there
All along