Out of Touch

I’m so young
Twenty is not old enough to
know anything
‘I don’t know anything about
you’, he says
but he wants to know
like where I want my dreams to take me
like how to bring me to my knees
except you knew that from a thousand miles away

Life as I know it
I don’t know much of

Do I love you?
Because I miss you
and this red wine’s
not helping at all
Ain’t that a shame?

Red wine usually helps
But here I am,
lying on the couch
bottle in hand
tears teasing at my cheeks
waiting for a break in
the silence

Because I don’t handle
these things well.

I’ve never been good at goodbye
and December’s never the
best time
to turn me loose on myself

inner monologue after
inner monologue
that sometimes slips out as
self-inflicted lectures
on how it’s my fault
you left

And I’d claim desperation
like insanity
to get you back,
repair a year of damages
if you asked

We could skip that blizzard crazed
Thursday in February
when I first felt you slip away
and did everything I could to pull you close
or those not so sunny summer days
when losing you seemed unbearable
or every day since then
now that you’re gone.

You think I don’t care
and you’d be wrong,
Just take a walk with me
in the midnight hour
meet my misery and all it’s
as I let you get away
with the murder of maybe

That’s all I had to give you,

and the corners of my mouth
or my cold feet you used to warm.

The Judgment:
I’m so young
Too young to feel this old
Too young to know anything
Like how to find myself in this silence
you created.


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