and that was it
you said your piece, however shallow it may be
(although the depths of you could fill the most desolate valley)
and you didn't even say goodbye

you didn't even say goodbye
which shouldn't confuse or surprise me
for your goodbyes now are fleeting, thoughtless, and cold

i thought about you for a minute, or an hour...a while
and i stopped looking for the right words
because i knew they'd never come
(as i'll never come, and you'll never leave my blood thirsty, orange heart)

i'd waited for you, for touches that never were
for solace, elopement, truth
but you're fading as the color from my cheeks
the little that lingered
from the first time you said "i love you"

i had no need to write it down then, because your words had been
my face
one with the underwater world
the infinite life residing in me

now your words float on my surface,
not etched or engrained or all encompassing
but poorly tossed aside
to land, wherever the wind might blow them

and i knew then, with the lack of resonating
that your resignation had been sent
over the airways
and that my heart was leaps behind
my brain
had already suppressed your name