the same old story
if i pretend it's not true,
to not only everyone else, but myself,
could it, perhaps, just disappear?

if i ignore what my heart is telling me,
screaming at me w/all its might,
will it stop yelling over the better judgement of my head?

if i do everything perfectly,
absolutely every little thing perfectly,
would you not stand so close in correcting me?

if i can't push you from my mind,
concentrate on anything but that damned smile,
how can i look at myself w/o the anger of seeing the wrong visage?

if i waited a little longer,
let some time pass as it would,
why would anyone rightfully tell me no, save for you?

if you stood a little farther away,
maybe didn't look at me, burn me, with that crooked grin,
i'd be able to forget you.




(january 2003)