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The Truth
So they can all sit
Or stand if they want
Who am I to tell them?
And they can think
Whatever it is they want.
And everyone seems to think
It's important to work out
Where the dog will sleep.
And everyone tells me
How much you hurt.
They think I don't know?
I'm the one who looked into your eyes
And saw you broken in peices.
And it broke me.
And all they tell me
Is how you hurt.
And how I dont care.
Well, where were they?
Who held the knife
Who suffered the blows
And who wisked your daughter to safety?
But now I can't call
Or see her.
Wouldnt want her to be
Conflicted
Or hurt.
Can't let her near me.
I don't care.
And I'm irresponsible.
Well, they can think
What they want.
I know the truth.
But the question is - do you love her? Is there reason for her to hope? Or should she give up? Has the rent been paid? Are her ornaments, her parking placard, her swiss army knife, her coat, in a box headed her way? Will she ever look in your eyes again, even just to say good bye and have some closure, because hanging here like this is more hurtful than just being told a clear and plain goodbye face to face with love. Oh God, I love you.