Sunday, October 30, 2011

Everything after But

I still spin poetry about you as though you're close by. As though you just left. As though you're coming back. As though my silent pleading, my body aching, my tears falling will reach your ears, your eyes, your memory.

You looked at me like,
"Don't take these pictures"
But I'm glad I did

Looking at them now
I see what your eyes said
Your face showed me how
When I didn't know why,
You couldn't tell the truth

But neither could you lie
You said you loved me

But you couldn't fall

It was cold behind your walls.

Mom used to say,
"Everything after but is bullshit."

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