i feel it fall
from my mouth
an admission of love
like an admission of guilt
fingers stabbing
like five tiny knives
waiting
saying yes
i did feel
and not saying how still
i can sit
in the lobby
shifting downtown
in anticipation of words
you aren't capable of
is this the way
you'd treat a friend?
perhaps your outside
has rotted you through
i've wished so much, so often
i could be like that
seeing now how i'm wrong again
and still failing to accept it
why can't you see
that all i ever did
was listen
because that was all i ever had to give
is this your idea
of a quiet
gentle end?
gentle
as breath
dying on your tongue
whispering no
you never felt
the way i do
and couldn't
your sentences are brief
full of nothing to say to me
and i realise
that once you're through
i've nothing to safe left
to say to you.