~4~

This is the moment that you know,

That you told her that you loved her, but you don't.

You touch her skin and then you think,

That she is beautiful, but she don't mean a thing to me.

Yeah, she is beautiful, but she don't mean a thing to me.  

There is something in the back of his mind.  He can’t seem to put it into words.  The syllables won’t form on his tongue…it’s as if he has too much peanut butter on the roof of his mouth.  Now is when he knows that something is changing…he has to tell her that he can't do it anymore, but he's afraid of how she will respond.  Endings are never happy. 

I wanted to believe in all the words that I was speaking,

As we moved together in the dark.

And all the friends that I was telling,

All the playful misspellings,

And every bite I gave that left a mark.

Then tiny vessels oozed into your neck and formed the bruises,

That you said you didn't want to fade.

But they did and so did I that day.  

He knows what the thing in the back of his mind is.  Now he has to choose to let go or move forward.  No option will end in happiness.  Too bad working at a paper company didn’t teach him any life lessons.  He could use some help… 

All I see are dark gray clouds in the distance moving closer with every hour.

So when you'd ask, "Is something wrong?"

I'd think, "You're damn right there is, but we can't talk about it now.

No we can't talk about it now."  

Talking is overrated.  After five nights of sounds bouncing off walls and damp pillows he doesn’t know if he can take it.  But she promises things will get better.  So he will stick it out, vanquish memories and hope like hell that the days will become shorter.