Every Line

To the one I gave my soul to:

Ignorance

Doesn't really excuse your behavior, which I now see as something that was

Obscene by nature.

Notably foul yet

Tender by chance.

Chances regulated by whim and whim alone

Arbitrary at best,

Reliable at worst.

Every day you and I spoke

And yet I can't remember a single conversation of ours

Being significant in any way, shape or form.

Opinions of any sort were out of the question,

Unless they were yours.

"Today I..." "Well, I think.." "I don't know if you should.." "I love to..." "I feel like.."

You always spoke about yourself with such vigor, it's crazy how you

Opted out of talking about your real feelings. If only you had let your true feelings for me

Unfold when we'd first met, I wouldn't have had to write them for you at the beginning of every line