getting somewhere
i find you in the form of a little machine pressed against my mother’s ear in the kitchen. mom: cordial. me: assume its someone else. but when i hear the voice on the other end i know exactly who it is but do not yet realize the urgency of this message. i told you weeks ago, i feel like i can’t say anything to you because i don’t want to hurt you. and i meant: i hate knowing that i hurt you; i hate knowing that i still hurt you; i hate knowing that i exist. in a rush of words i tell you about everything that’s happened back when you and i == us. and you tell me everything too. suddenly, i understand that i couldn’t let you assume. that you could know me completely and yet not know me at all because you didn’t know the misery and the pain that i felt. why can’t we be normal and have a break up where blame can be placed to set the scales of balance? i think it over, twisting and turning the phrase around in my mouth and i suddenly realize the truth i suddenly believe in truth and i know that we’re not normal. i wouldn’t want that. but we’re getting somewhere. and maybe someday i’ll make it all up to you. between the two of us we’ve got to be abel to come up with someone who believes in maybe someday.