23

Sometimes when I’ve got a moment
And the sounds and movements
Turn off
And the day
Slows down

I think about you.

If only you could see what I am
Doing now,
What you did not contribute to.

You don’t know me anymore.
I don’t know you anymore.
That goes without saying,
You mean nothing but clipped memories
These days.

And all of these things that I’ve done
Since “ ” -
I would rub it in your face.
I would take your hand and press it
Hard against my accomplishments
Until your skin broke open
And I’d smirk and throw you
A Band-Aid.
I’d go,
“I can’t exactly say I feel bad.”

(That is,

If I knew it would hurt you.)

So here
Nobody really knows
What went on between us.
The silence only cementing
The secrets.
And we don’t talk anymore.
But if we did,
I would tell just one thing:
It wasn’t me,
It was you.

Reviews

[steppenwolf]

This road you describe is a hard one on which to travel; this part about taking the person's hand and rubbing it against your accomplishments is an excellent image.
S.

[Gastroc.]

damn right.