conclusion

broken glasses on the floor and God only
knows how they got there, dried tears on
my face, and he only knows why they
dried there. angry bruises on my arms
and we both know why they reddened there,
and i wonder what he's wondering but neither
of us tends to speak about past mistakes
because weeping only leads to honesty
and honesty only leads to pain so
yesterday will remain distant and we'll never
bring it up again, and every time i try he'll
tell me its the past and that it won't be so bad
next time and 'damn it, relax, honey' and i'm so
sure that the responsibility was mine, and i'm
so sure that I was the one meant to stop this
but when i think of all he's done for me, i just
sit back and let it go because God knows that
I'm not even almost as strong as the drink in
his glass.