Untitled

I'm not sure if I was ever really there. Those awkward eyes deciding what of me they saw. It's like sleeping with your eyes open. Pretending you don't know it's all a dream. The taste of tomorrow sour on their lips. The chair building in their thoughts. Where I will never sit. I couldn't take them to bed with me only to wake up and find they were gone. It was better to see them out while my courage was still on tap.

Soft demons in hard masks. Ringing doorbells I thought didn't work anymore.

I'm humble. I'm honest. When you ask me how hard it is. It was, but isn't anymore. Why look for hurt when it no longer offers any reward?

I listen. To the sound of him saying nothing. Because it's familiar. I listen to the pale of his thoughts as they become his ghosts.

I listen.

As if I know what he's saying.

I listen.

Because I feel the stiff in his throat when the years measure their surrender.

I listen.

Because I can hear what isn't in his words.

I listen.

Because I want to know.