STALE

you authored the truce that saved our lives
how cliché, just in the nick of time
but nevertheless it was hard to admit
that I was never yours and you were never mine

and we could still stand into each other
and whisper softly in the other’s ear
the gentle words of lovers
but as far as delusions go it’d be nothing
but another
and as far as illusions go
it’d be better
than no other

so if not with me
where do you stand?
what do I grasp in the absence
of your hand?

so without you
what do I love?
what is there to do
when what’s done is done?

the terms so cruel
I can’t stand standing
not standing next
to you

and cliché
and cliché
and cliché

there’s nothing new to say
but I wish you would stay
the script might be stale
but we could make it work
we could try to, anyways

sure it’d be a lie
but it’s so embarrassing
to cry,
so let’s just sit
and eat
everything is fine,
we’ll scream,
everything is fine