We lost our way for reasons we understand, but don’t want to change. Visions of you everywhere I go, but not making the attempt to go see you. Communication is a two way street, but neither of us want to meet halfway. Or maybe that’s not even true. In my heart, I want to take those steps to see your face, but my mind tells me to stay home and finish cleaning.
Poetry of you because I know better to spill it all. Poetry of you because I can’t make the phone call. Poetry of you because I drive another direction. Poetry of you because what’s there to come home to?