Caught in the care we feel, we escape for a little while.
We’re both good at pretending.
Happy in the moment, I think, just to talk as a good friend ought to do.
How can I need you when you care for the love I feel?
I was too eager, and you were too smart to keep the fickle time we choose to make.
I cannot keep you; give me your hands, please, give me your hand.
I cannot leave you behind.
We’re both good at pretending
we work only as if we were.
But in my mind, we work in spite of what we were.
We work to our expiration.
Darling, we’re miserable,
and I hope for our sake, I hope, for now, we’re good at pretending.
January 16, 2019