An ill fated response. I finally told her the truth yesterday. |
ut I certainly didn't mean that when I said it. I would be absurd to have believed it. There's no way. No way. No way I would have done it. I couldn't. I was enthralled. Enchanted. En…? Whatever. The point being, I spoke out of Embarrassment? Shock? Inarticulation? Like a child being chastised, Or the victim of a surprise party gone terribly wrong. Was that it? Or was it the circumstances? About as convenient as giving birth in Death Valley, A customer just past closing, Or you. The night before. I always worried about the morning after For obvious reasons. I blush just thinking about it. Was it my fault? You spit out a flustered "no." Now I have become the inconvenience. An emotional gnat; Buzzing. Buzzing. Buzzing. David Thompson. Rendered inarticulate. Who would have thought? No one would believe you if you told them. Hell, I don't believe you. Or me. I suppose inconsistency threw me off at first. Stress. Need. Desire. Confusion. Am I writing a poetry or the next big hit for Blink 182? Maybe I can relate. Maybe not. I like to think I'm not nearly as whiny. Or drunk. Back to the point: I say a lot of things, But I didn't mean that, I couldn't. But we both believed it. And now it's good to use. To say. To believe. It's convenient. |