i take too long in my morning coffee
cause again
i said good night to the sun before accepting silence.
when i’m not writing with my fingers i am
with my mind
a shibuya crossing of questions
regrets wander while hiding behind surgical masks
school girls of self esteem, hand in hand
but still i cant comprehend.
i visit old conversations that i promised i never would
(how long did it last? a week?)
scraping for bits and clues
of what you did.
you had so many chances
i half asked it so many times
but confessed maybe i wasn’t strong enough to know
although you were the one supposed to do better
that was your role
caring, responsible, rational,
you.
now i see
i built you with bricks of wishful thinking
and missed the clues that you were long
gone.
scraps of love to the ground
scraps of love, all i was worth
my pipes and energy lines exposed
just the structure remained standing
but that i still didn’t know.
amidst the three or four answers you gave me
in your 60 second rant of blaming the victim
while i froze in anger and disbelief
you said
being with her was my biggest mistake
and i knew your regret had nothing to do
with me.
though i will never know
how can you shatter two women you loved with a single strike
and still sleep at night.
