i wonder why the world dealt me that hand
and the one before it
that is tied to the one tonight
why did she say what she said before
and why when i talked to you about it
did you respond in that fashion
i guess
your fashion
as it were

and then you show up
and i bend
and melt
and flow
for you
and all the walls i attempt to build
come crashing down
as if just mere sticks
not adobe
or bricks
or even rebar and concrete

and my company
looks at me
almost with pitty
for the way i let you in
and the way you open the door for me

but i seem to say to myself
better to be
with and in some semblance of pain
than to be without

am i convincing myself
or others?

i still think i love you
or maybe its
i think i still love you
or even
i still love you
i think