Tuesday, May 24, 2011

to someone i haven't thought of in a while

as if the color of the walls could make a difference
in the patterns of the smoke
you read along by yourself with everyone watching
and no-one seeing

some times i think of how
on my way to meet you
i had such high hopes
hopes so high i, in fact, ignored them
only as open or closed as the next person
no more or less present than the ceiling

i could have made something there
i thought you were perfect
you thought there was something wrong with me


1 comment:

  1. Always a red flag when you find yourself thinking that someone else is perfect.