Careless

If I had said sorry sooner, would it
have mattered. If I had only held onto
that hand instead of letting go
would you have stayed? Maybe a kiss,
an embrace, that gift that I should
have thought to bought sooner, any of this
would it have kept your feet planted,
stationary in my world?

If my words were poetic, if they were melodic,
If I wasn't so awkward as I danced, would
you have loved me longer? My eyes, they don't
shine all the time, my hair doesn't part in
the right spots, and my face isn't made
of stone, but my heart was for you, is for you
and it's yours to hold. Is this what you saw in me?
Did you not see the fight, the constant urgency
to find the light to hold within you, to share with you,
the way I touched your face didn't show you these things?

Now I see, in my mind, maybe I shouldn't have given so
freely, maybe it was you, not me, no, not me that had
wronged all the rights. If you hadn't found a different
bed to host, maybe the cost of all my hearts wouldn't have
been so much. I see you through these sphere of tears as they
dance down my cheek bones, washing away illusions
of what I had imagined in my small mind what you
really were.

Ah, but hell, if these things aren't jaded by your lips,
by those legs around my hips, driving me deeper into
a despair of longing and want. My hand, is your hand, and
keeps me warm during these lonely nights as you dance
transparently over me. Maybe that's all you were,
maybe, dear, without you knowing that is all you will
ever be; you're the back end of empty looks, and licking
lips that taunt actual meaning. I split my two minds
and the ugly faces they portray and wish, secretly, that
I could say I care less, but because of this, because of you
my heart is careless.