Thursday, August 29, 2002

it was the hardest thing

it was the hardest thing I’d ever said
and the words just fell
out of my mouth
they lay on the floor
between our four feet
looking for a place to hide
wishing that I’d never said them
can’t pretend it never happened
yet you stand there saying nothing
eyes like the first day of school
blank and hard and empty coldness
I should get a piece of paper
pick those words back off the carpet
like a spider trapped indoors
likely to run up my arm
makes me just a little anxious
hoping you can’t see me quaking
as I turn and walk away
my warped, misshapen words all huddled
in the middle of the paper
get them to an open window
let them drop down where they will
maybe someone else will find them
crumpled up against the coping
pry them back apart and wonder
why the hell would he say that?