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