what is there left to tell

anymore? I'm presenting my case to an empty room

filled with silence that illuminates my hurt.

Don't worry about it,

you're worthless to me now; you

have no invitation to my thoughts.

 

On second thought,

I'll let you in on this special occasion, just don't tell

the others because there's limited room

in my mind. And we don't want to hurt

them, do we? Come on in, it

won't take me long. So, you

 

can leave those glossy, black dress shoes of yours

on. That's funny, I thought

you used to wear those worn out, smelly Converse? I can tell

at least one of us has allowed room

for growth. Your shoes, do they hurt?

They look like they might be a bit tight. Oh well, it

 

is of no concern to me. It's

looking a bit chilly out there, do you

care to stay a while? No? You

have to leave soon? Wait, I thought

I was going to tell

you something. Why are we standing in this room?

It's so unpresentable and embarrassing, it hurts!

 

Oh my, you stubbed your toe on my guitar, and now it hurts?

Hold on, let me grab a bandage so it

will hurt no more. How are you

feeling now? Good! I thought

that might help. Tell

me, may I come to your room

 

sometime? I bet your room

is filled with wonders so glorious, it hurts!

What do you mean I can't visit? It

shouldn't be a problem for you,

right? But I thought-

Fine, but let me tell

 

you this. Leave my room, for you

aren't welcome to my thoughts, or any of it.

There's someone better I can tell, and it won't cost me any hurt.