"Well, it's a Start"

These are what can’t be said

in ways I want the most. Sit

idle, you deserved, but never

was I less useless than now. I could

fight for days on things that no longer

matter. Ruminations are the product

of all the uncontrollable things

that aren’t part of now, how things

are. I hate, I hate, I hate the time,

the length of where it started.

How long it’s been. Change

won’t happen this way, to say

it out loud. I should – I won’t.

It lives between thought

and the hard thing left unused.

A little voice that won’t shut up

about longing, regret, letters

composed and dismissed, written

then torn. Because, and listen

for two more moments, if I said

what I wanted, I wouldn’t cope.

There, throw it away and we’ll move

on. I’m jealous. Every single stranger

that smiles seems like they have it all,

and I want their smile. Yet I know

everyone hides such longing in

their teeth. It all seems beside the point,

what I want to make with this

sentimental blathering of mine.

This is barring the ever-constant

possibility that I just want to harp

on my weird perspective, just so

you’ll take pity. I’m sure it’s served

its purpose. There is nothing left

but the silence of a scream echoing

around in my head. You’re not there

anymore. I’m not sure what’s left.

Broken pieces glued back together,

a thing knocked over, but nobody

noticed. Everyone always says it’s hard.

Is there a point where it’s just to say

“It’s too hard. I can’t take it anymore.”?

They are just as rotted as I -

we all underestimated the pain.

I don’t know you, as you no longer

know me. Yet – there will be no

one who will know me better.

I was drunk. Drunk to tell you

everything that I did. You were

too, you always said “you’re fine”

with such clarity. I didn’t feel so

bad. I’ve written the same meaning

again and again with the hope

of a different outcome. I hate it

every time. I can’t write about

what I need, yet hide from the

spotlight. How dare you! You never

responded to the silence. You left me

behind, so my imagination may

swallow me like I never existed.

We never expected it to be this fair.

For a moment, we thought we were

alright. It was the thing to do, and yet

we begged the rocks to change their

minds. I haven’t led the outcry.

I couldn’t even try. Let’s not try

to explain it all now, or I’ll spin

around until I’ve created walls

and layers, and layers upon walls,

protecting, hiding my intentions

until even I can’t remember what they

were. If you’ve forgotten, if you’ve gone

and left me here, if you’ve moved on,

I don’t know want to know. I know

there are so many ways I know you

could, all the ways you shouldn’t, but

if you did the one thing that can’t be

undone for a moment, how could

you not bother to tell me? Yet again,

is that really what I should worry over?

If you’ve gone off into the horizon, with

someone else by your side, I should be

happy, but I know I won’t, really. There is

no way I want to know. I’ll be destroyed

in all the same ways if I don’t. I imagine

handing you a page of writings just like

this and saying “This, this has to be what

I have to say.” And walk away. I don’t

want to cause trouble in business that

is really not my own, anymore.

These are the things I want said, that just

can’t be said in the ways I want the most.

I don’t know if you are watching, and

I don’t even know if it’d matter if you were,

but this is a start of everything I think about.

There is no good way to conclude a thought

that never end, so I’ll sit across the way,

smiling, tears running away from the ability

to hold them back and say “well, it’s a start.”