Our curtain split in a tangled obsession we lost. My voice didn't reach off the stage. The crowd didn't applaud my entrance. The play we have been pretending to reenact is not one many have completed. Unsuccessful, we fell and the curtains draped over my pride. Pathetically practicing ways to apologize for my part I didn't comprehend.

Inside our dramatic hearts we take tally of broken parts poorly performed. Dancing intricately around life practically promising failure. I failed to see the signs. Your hips, they participated in my existence. Writing letters in a language historians can't grasp. Those letters still play in my head on a rainy day.

Our play ended with a subtle ignorance. Ignoring our ability to love. To dance away a night and pretend like we are someone else. People so urgently rushing to become something they are not. That will never be us. We will exit this stage with a bow, a broken heart, and too many lines never shared.