By smoldering
Date: 9 March 2000

Explanations

You wonder why, and all I can do is try to explain.
The pain I caused you, and still cause you is never intentional.
You've always been too good to me,
too good for me,
and I would never try  
to make you cry.

I'm wrapped up in my life,
up to my neck,
in over my head.

The things I do,
they push you away until you feel like you don't know me
anymore, and I don't know you.  

My focus is all wrong, but I can't change it,
rearrange it,
restructure it to make everything fit.

The sadness you feel, because of me,
it makes me cry,
makes me know that I'm not fair to you,
never there for you,
but I did, and I do still care for you.  

But to try to keep on living with the hope,
and nothing there to back it up,
it isn't good
and it isn't right.

I know, I understand why you wouldn't come,
didn't come.
Alone, brushed aside,
an afterthought?  
Never.
I hoped I could bend it,
stretch it,
strain it so that you would fit into my life.  
The intrest wasnt' there, and I know its not because you didn't care
but rather that you couldn't bear to watch me put the time,
take the time,
the effort and put it into things that were "everything but you."

It's overwhelming how I feel,
I'm just not sure how to deal with it,
how to feel about it.

But I'm very sure that to keep you along for the ride,
feeling neglected
and cast aside,
unloved,
its no good for your special heart.

Maybe I do have great things about the outside of me,
but the inside feels ratty,
rotten,
broken,
having made you feel forgotten
in the giant swirling life I lead.

I stay too busy,
it helps me fight the pain,
keep out the rain,
keep me sane,
keep at bay the disdain
I feel for me sometimes.

I don't know how to make it right for you,
make it light for you,
keep the pretty smile you show.
But it's better if you go,
and let go,
and find another to give you what I know
it is you need.  

What you ask, it isn't much,
any fool could see how easy it is,
but its more than I've got right now.

Don't think it doesn't hurt me too,
to see you,
to think of you,
and what you'll do,
without me.

Maybe some day I'll take the time,
make the time,
put the reason with the rhyme,
and be the thing you need.
But that'll be too late,
you'll have a different fate,
along a different path,
a better path,
than the one I can take you down now.
      
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