That Far

The little jingle
Triggers immediate reaction
I feel vandalized;
I feel perpetual.
I hope that I’d stop my foolish antics. But damn me, because it isn’t all that foolish.
The thought of it being mutual; being okay; being valid…it seems so unreal.
It seems so out of reach.
Being serious is seriously starting to dawn on me.
“Your mom.”
Tell me what it is that you thought.
Because I think I’m reading more into this.
And I’m not serious.
But maybe, I’m more than you thought.
You’re the one who admitted to the façade.
Your façade.
Would you find it in your heart, anywhere, for someone?
Do I have to give that someone a name?
Do I have to humiliate myself like that?
I’m in your reach
And scoffed at; looked over; put on hold.
(Ceramic braces and a new tan wouldn’t jump at you)
You told me to promise to see you.
“…promise?”
“Well, I am off Friday.”
The clock calls, says it’s too late, and I can’t sleep.
I’d tell you pretty little things if I were to see you…
What’s the last thing you think of before you go to sleep?
The fact that you’re sleeping alone?
Or do you think of me?

Let's put it this way: ............YAY!

Spin around, thrown down, back up.
Just...
it's nice to see that again. And again.
My post-its help out.
I'll tell you about it sometime.