<<<< Tardy >>>>

Meaning, my old sister, my dreaded butcher

you call out to me, through digits and text

or voice, should you be so bold to seek me out.



In your mind, five minutes is all its going to take

for me to find you in these bright hallways.



But you know i won't be there.i cannot be there.



We're all leaving eachother behind somewhere

some on dry islands with no direction

some in damp rooms without taking the trash with us.

some on wet beds, where what strains were once warm

now cools. and chills you.



but those shivers are not physical.

they're living proof that we cannot exist without the friends

we abandon, either by choice, or ignorance, or

the iron clad self-preservation, stronger than the will it seeks to protect.

and shelter.



We will pass by eachother, and not say a thing.

We will call eachother, and leave messages of the cliché

"call me sometime. i'll be waiting"

because even when you forget that you are waiting,

you'll know that when i call, it's what you've been missing.

and the same goes for me in respects to you.



no amount of broken promises can break our wills.

or that mutual pull which becomes the only lifeline we know in the end.

you know....

the one we feel when you know the other is thinking of you.

and then we play it off like it was us who thought of it first.

and we feel shame, because we know its our fault.

doubly if we never act upon it.



or perhaps we both think of eachother at the same time.

how poetic would that be?

and our guilt is shared, like two cups sharing their contents

as two lovers exchange fluids, for that last brief time.



You'll say meet me by the tower in five minutes.

But i cannot be there.

I won't be there.

not yet.



if anything, i'll be tardy

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