Untitled(c. 1993 or 1994)
We often say things we don’t mean
some hurtful, some obscene
We laugh like lovers
but fight like brothers
Who is to blame
for the sorrow, for the pain?
Do we mean what we say?
Or should we turn our backs
and walk away?
When we make up do we really want to breakup?
Or just pretend?
Notes:
At first I thought I might have been having an existential crisis when I wrote this. Then I realized it was just about a boy.
danielle dreger 