Two Years, Almost

When I heard the words which fell from lips that trembled, my own traitor tongue behind them, words that sounded foreign in their rightness breaking me with every beat, I could not stop them falling, nor take them back. Two years, almost, two years and now nothing left but tears and regrets and dark times that must be lived through. We cried, and kept crying, each alone, each doubting, each keeping as much as possible inside. Because of love. Because of love. Time passed. And again, more words fell, my own fingers turning traitor, pressing issues, asking questions, demanding an end to hope, not knowing the answer had already happened in a quickening of interest, the day before. And it broke me, the answer. And it broke me. Do you love me? Yes. Do you want me? No. Is there someone? Yes. It is over. Now there is nothing. No more tears. Even regret has fled before the quiet. No more hope, no more lying hope. I can't regret what could never be. It is over. Traitor thoughts, now, traitor heart. Even death is tasteless, baseless. There is nothing. Only dark. Broken, it is broken. It is broken.Written last night, after a long two hour IM chat with my ex. It is a sad thing when the love and devotion of two people isn't enough. Written March 6th, 2002 © on Mar 06 2002 05:22 AM PST   18 • 0 • 1