scribbles

and how did we end up this way?

we put our dreams in a box

and let them fade away

we’ve patched up nicely

don’t you think?

and wrapped the bandage around our wound

our skin has healed over

but don’t you know that

this wound

goes

deeper

 

but what does it matter?

do we really give a shit?

i know if i didn’t, i wouldn’t be writing this

because when you come back to me

i am scared

i’m fumbling around

trying to find the key

that will let us in

into the past

where we once were

us

 

but then i see you

and the keys don’t seem to fit

and the bandages peel away

raw, tentative

stripped.