Gone Fishing

Sometimes you are so reckless. Hey, little wonder. Like a record on repeat, the same song plays over and over, and you keep listening and making the same mistake every time. I'm pretty sure you've got a temper on you...one you never showed me. I never incited it. I'm pretty sure you walk through this life cold, cold skin, cold smile...the heat that keeps you alive comes from inside. And your focus, like a magnifying glass on the unlucky leaf that has caught your attention, keeps that flame burning, fire sign.

Am I too blame? No, not really. But I, like a woman, played with your head. Unintentionally. I am the one that dangled the bait right above your head, and you couldn't take it. You've been caught too many times before.
You knew something you believed I did not. That my honesty, however poignant, however true, was fleeting. You know that the truth morphs in time. You knew I am a butterfly, today something, tomorrow something else. I felt that, when I told you to go and you stayed. You should have gone, you should have run. You knew you would. But for a moment, you stayed, and like always, I knew what you could never say. That the only part left to catch had been caught. It just wasn't enough anymore. Somewhere along the line, you promised never to taste the bait again. And there was nothing I could ever do about it.

There is no hook, no line, no sinker. There is you on that side, and me on mine. You said this was non-negotiable. You said you knew better. But you...somewhere out there...laughing at a bar. Drinking with these people you call friends, sometimes your thoughts rest on me. You drive home at 5 in the morning, fumbling for your keys, wearing this big buffer now that keeps you hazy. You think you need to be hazy for a while. And what do I know anyway. You're just doing what you've always done. How did this happen, how did we end up hurting each other...do what you want. But I know what you're up to.