Paramnesia

 

I was standing on the sidelines.  I said too much.  Probably didn't say enough.  I think I've been here before. 

If only my mind could be read.   If only my heart could be seen.  If only I listened.  I think I've been on mute before.

It's a two week drought.  It's a lifetime of what could be.  If I said, this is the worst.  If I could say how much this hurts.   Out loud. 

I was laying face down.   Pillow collecting the rain.  I couldn't breathe.  I did not want to.   I think I've felt this before.  This is different.  Worse.

Sticks and stones.  I would rather be beaten with those.  Some words never go away.  I can't unhear what I heard or unsee what I saw.   I think I've felt redemption once before.

I was sitting on a park bench.  Soaking in the summer warmth.  If only you were proud of me.  Or me of me.  I think I've been here before.

I've been sober way too long.  Love is the needle injected into me.  If only, she knew.  I think we are better off without me. 

It's the perfect loneliness.  I think I've convinced myself of this before.  It's the imperfection that drew me in.   And I never wanted out.

I was standing on the sidelines.   I said too much.  Never said enough.   I think I've been here before.