This Time of Year
You're looking at me right now
As though you're wondering
If I could be your personal savior.
If I could make you momentarily real.
If I could make you worthwhile.
And I'm looking
At you.
Around you.
Through you,
And wondering,
"How will you look at me in the morning?"
I came here tonight as a favor
To the girl I used to be.
The girl I want to be.
The girl I'm trying too hard to be.
I reached out and rang the bell
And you buzzed me in like you weren't even surprised to see me.
Funny, 'cause I sure was surprised to find myself reflected in
Your eyes.
So now we're
Sitting here.
Staring here.
Starting here; again, on this same ragged sofa
Where so much once began.
Not that I should be shocked to find
That everything that should be so different is
So the same.
So safe.
So disturbingly comfortable.
We've been sitting here for an hour
And I've just made the mistake of
Telling you how much I've been thinking of you lately;
How that always happens around this time of year.
And now I'm crying into my cappucino
Because when you lean toward me that way,
I forget how you've hurt me,
And remember only how I love(d) you.
I ignore the fact that you're everything I don't need,
And can think only of the taste of your lips.
********************************************************************************
But then, it always comes back to you.
********************************************************************************
It's two-thirty A.M. and I'm
Too brutally tired.
Too electrically wired
To send myself home yet.
And I'm wishing you'd look at your watch and yawn,
And give me
The excuse;
The desire
To leave this apartment and never look back.
But you look at me, instead, so I stay.
And now I'm trying to remember
How to speak.
How I got here.
How I forgot you.
When you've been imprinted so bright and beautiful in my mind,
That I often forget to blink to avoid being blinded.
********************************************************************************
It's seven-thirty A.M.
And I've just woken to the sight of you asleep on the couch
Beside me.
I've forgotten to be bitter
Because while I slept,
I finally managed to remember something:
How you were once my personal savior.
How you made me momentarily real.
How you made me worthwhile.
********************************************************************************
And I think in your direction,
"Let go of my heartstrings, will you?" You're tugging on them
Too hard."
~~Jamie B., 9-27-98
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