Lie, Promise, Sorrow, Fine
I call you, to hear what I don’t want to hear.
You answer with a hello,
you hear my voice,
it goes quiet.
Collecting your thoughts you begin to speak,
the words you’ve been practicing,
you ask me to listen.
I expected everything you said, prepared myself, and commited to feeling fine.
Fine is what I expected; fine would’ve been fine.
Tears, hearing them break and weave like shattered glass hashing through your words, I didn’t expect.
Those tears, don’t make everything fine.
You ask me to say something, anything, just so you don’t have to feel like an idiot.
I don’t think that you’re an idiot.
I just wanted to hold you close, and tell you that everything would be okay, everything would be fine.
But as I heard those tears;
I knew I couldn’t promise you something like that.