We appeared out of nowhere
and fortuitously we evolved.
We’ve gotten to know ourselves better,
or at least we’re more aware of our flaws.
I’m almost convinced it was your fault,
and you’re convinced that I’m a liar.
I sure as hell didn’t light that match.
But it’s possible I caught you on fire.
I’ll be gone by the afternoon.
But I’ll still be thinking of you.
You’ll remember me for the things I’ve done
not the things I wanted to do.
I’m the table where you wrote our love
and past the pages you bled through.
In my rotting wood lies truth that you never could face
though it chased you and finally bit you.
We used to run around naked
while they dressed up in their fanciful clothes.
Our quiet reasoning is much too loud—
made up of poignant echoes.
I will fight the good fight
whatever the hell that means.
Our permanent coats are much too dirty
for any amount of scrubbing to wash them clean.
In the garden where we made our home,
I plant a seed and bury you.
Out of my cradle, I lye in your grave,
still mesmerized by illusions of truth.
You said our mistakes make us stronger.
But what really have we learned.
I sure as hell didn’t light that match
but I sat by and watched you burn.
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