four letters i forgot to send.

my brother's birthday.
this was the beginning, and
i was happy, and i told people.
and you were happy, and
you let me kiss you,
and we were happy, waiting.
to be taken home and back
where we belonged, and
you wanted to wait for me.
you wanted to wait on me to leave
so you could embark on your journey
but i made you exit first.
why prolong the inevitable,
and why not make it more convenient
for us both? i appreciated it too much.
i thought it meant something.

the second month in.
it meant something then
when we were safe and secure,
and we didn't care, and he
wasn't there. we weren't scared.
to be something more
than they thought of us, than
your past thought of you (and
what my friends made me out
to be) we were free. and in
you, i was free. i wanted you
to be free within me. i could
not wait for you the second
month in. i got impatient then.

the night it ended.
my impatience led to the
beginning of the heartbreak,
the leading on to the heartache
and the end of me celebrating
you inside of me. you were in
my heart, and you were in my
lungs and you were in my
throat. you. it all somehow
came back to you. and then
it was over. and we were over.
and it wasn't said, but it was felt
like you ran your hands across
my back and up my legs, it
was dead. and we kissed and
hugged and said those things,
(to which emotion clings)
and clinging onto you, you
weren't there for me, in the end.

the next wave.
the end wasn't the last i'd
heard of you my friend, you,
you were there after the end.
you talked and smiled and
waved and all the while, we'd
say (those awful things we'd
say) like how the weather was
that day and how the snow falls.
(the snow still fell. and it doesn't
now) and when the snow stopped
so did we, and i heard of him.
another one like you, like the one
before you and the one before him.
like the one after the next and
the one after that. and that's all
i thought about was the proverbial
man, the typical man. the man
without the feelings, that would
stop caring after the first two
weeks. the one who wanted to
feel and be felt, but not to be
felt for. or the man who really
didn't want you. the man who
never really wanted you. that's who
you ended up being. and i should
have known from the beginning.

Reviews

[...and some ideas.]

waow...
need to read this one over and over again..
I love simple phrases..simple eazy words..that go so deep and leave you thinking..
Bravo!