I met her where the Good Lord put her. I loved her; never understood her. I'll forget her later rather than sooner. We were so close. Almost.
Introverted elephants standing in the room. Misinterpreted arrogance coming into bloom. He says, she says, we were meant to be. Herded pachyderms rushing recklessly. Nobody speaks up until it is too late. Then it's I told you so, you should have listened to me. Introverted elephants are always the last to know. So close. Almost. Just not meant to be.
Dead horse twitches, everyone grabs a stick. Man down, pile on in the name of friendship. He says, she says, we're not over yet. Inevitable regret fades into a guilt trip. He says, she says, we were meant to be. Force feed the dead horse into eternity. Almost. So close. Still hungry.
I left her where I met her. The Good Lord will do the rest. It began with a handwritten letter and ended in a do over request. He says, she says, we can do better. So close. Almost. Denial is always suppressed.
He says, she says, I'm as perfect as I'll ever be. I'm so close yet so far is the irony. Wandering in this desert for that oasis is pure insanity. Because that oasis is just a mirage; an illusion of normality. He says, she says, we were meant to be. So close. Almost. Still thirsty.
Introverted elephants standing in the room. Misinterpreted arrogance coming into bloom. He says, she says, we were meant to be. Somebody, anybody. stop their inevitable misery. So close. Almost. Still lonely.
Two souls, him and her; never became a we.
Nobody talks about the elephant standing in the room. Not until it's too late, then it's I told you so, you should have listened to me. So close. Almost. Just not meant to be.
