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Short Short

de Eastwood

A false start is what you are
I’m teething and unprepared, unaware of what will be the next 2 years
Our eyes on the ceiling no foresight, just feeling.
We pick apart the little knots, we’re so perfect without flaws or marks.

Used to stay up and we’d talk
Now I stay up to see if you’ll call
Pace back and forth from wall to wall and now
Things haven’t been the same since last fall

I’m so far from where you are
I’ll drive there and repair the flaws that show
They’re now exposed we tried to cover them but choked
My eyes on the blank road, regretting what I wrote to you we planted our rose in the winter so it wilts, not blooms

Planted our rose in the cold so it wilts instead of blooms
I was so unprepared for meeting someone like you

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