I’ve gotten pretty good at crying
Somehow walking out the door
after you walk in
doesn’t get any easier.
I’m angry, and it surprises me.
I’m never angry.
But still, I’m not angry
I would never have left you the way
you left me–
but you thought we were impossible.
I would go through any pain for you. Die for you. Do
anything to reach you.
You–wouldn’t. But I don’t think it’s because
you decided I wasn’t enough–I just think you didn’t
I am angry. Not at you.
Because I love you.
And it hurts you too much
to look at me.
Here’s the trick to crying and driving–
you pretend it’s blurry because it’s raining
because it always is.