Oh Silly Me

   How dreadfully silly of me to hope you would take the time to stop back through here
   on your way out, as though by saying so out loud you'd come blasting through this door
   like to you it was still only April and we had more than enough free time to burn
   as easily as if reciting nursery rhymes that march and share and grant and warn
   and it's not like I've got it so bad that I would let myself think you even care.

   I forgot why you count out your fives by threes by twos in nines, and how you wear
   the scars that face outwise, and where you choose to stop for the night and what for,
   me never once suspecting how the more one gives in the less one gets out in return,
                              oh silly silly me!

   Yeah, but I do know how you'll be found, perpetually lost soul that you are
   to yourself no less than you were to the rest of us, so immune to any real cure
   and so well practiced at the forms these things must take to be easily torn,
   so they're all beat up and kicked, so they'll break and go toxic and burn,
   and that soon you're cigarette smoke in a stormy dark. Is that all we were?
                              What a silly lover I'd make!


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