the easiest thing
would be to retreat
back into me
in the parked van
outside her doorstep
crying endlessly
for someone that just won't come
and who will never
again
pounding my nervous fingers on the steering wheel
trying to have you come back
but you took your medicine
and now you're sound asleep in your bed
and i am up, writing all night
high
g o n e
but it's the easiest thing
only having to answer to me
because my words and thoughts turn into feelings
and she just can't handle them
i can hardly handle them myself
i ****** up by reading her work
because it hurt
but it is just that
her work that i admire
intimacy
only creates illusions
and it is the only reason i can't read her words objectively