dead planets

You tell me all the reasons why she couldn't stay,
and every selfish thought inside wants me to say
I know how to listen, I know how to wait,
I know how to love without keeping score or fate.

I know what it's like when the house isn't home,
when silence grows teeth and you learn to cope alone.
I know every crack you try hard to disguise,
because God, I've seen the same ghosts behind my own eyes.

And maybe that's the problem, maybe that's the sin,
how easily I know where your hurt has always been.
How every broken story somehow sounds the same,
how you say one thing and I can finish off the pain.

Because she had warm dinners and pictures on the wall,
someone there to catch her when she started to fall.
And I don't blame her-I swear that I don't-
for not understanding things some people simply won't.

But when you tell me why it all came apart,
there's a horrible voice with a horrible heart
that whispers, so softly I hate that it's true,
I could've done better.

God, I could've loved you.

And I hate myself after.

I hate every line,
every thought that crosses boundaries I know are not mine.
Because she's still my friend, or at least that's the name,
and wanting your ex feels a little lot like shame.

Besides, we'd never work.

Not really.

Not long.

We'd mistake being understood for where we belong.
Two kids with dead planets we carry inside,
calling it fate because we survived.

You'd laugh at my jokes, we'd both plan too far,
we'd stay up till morning discussing who we are.
You'd hold me too close and I'd call it being seen,
and we'd make something tragic and label it a dream.

Because trauma can mimic the holiest things,
can dress itself up with affection and rings.
Can feel like forever, can feel like relief,
while two lonely people mistake grief for belief.

So I sit with the guilt and I swallow it whole,
and pretend I don't notice the shape of the hole.
Pretend that I don't hear that dangerous refrain-

that maybe with me,
you'd have stayed.

And maybe with you,
I'd have done the same.

But "could have" is cruel,
and "almost" is worse.

And some people belong
only inside a verse.