years ago...
around the time i thought i was wise beyond my years... i recall .....
looking at you straight in the eye and saying that i was going to witness the world. i remember, getting a feeling in my gut, like i was destined for more... i said let's go. let's go somewhere new. far. far away... but you were too afraid of heights... you hate(d) planes, and motion. and lights. and anything that had to do with change. and i did and do too. but perhaps back then i was searching for an escape route to the constant battles within and with myself... and you, you just managed to get caught in between those battles.. something like collateral damage.. yeah, like collateral damage. presently, i realize i was wrong for that, because you had your own issues... and instead of helping you cope, i just added to them. like "its 2 AM, why aren't you home?" "it's only 11 PM in Vancouver can we discuss this tomorrow?". of course we couldn't... because there were never enough hours in "tomorrow" for us to straighten out all the things i'd neglect. like how your parents were mid divorce and i was busy with one's that didn't even know the date of my birthday, when you never missed one. how many have i missed by now? enough, and one too many. cause i've been around the world, but still consider you home. "you're so full of it. you're so full of it." "i'm so full of it. i'm so full of it. i know. but look. just look at me. i'm still me." but i won't pretend i know what i look like from the inside of your head. no angles can do justice to this position i'm in... there's no "good side" to me from the direction you're looking at me. i'm guilty. i'm guilty. i'm guilty. don't make me tell you different because you know i will. don't do that again. again. and again. you always call and set me up.. it's like you're in love with the ugly lie only cause i tell it from my pretty mouth. hold on. let me finish while it's fresh in my head. stop calling. i'm writing from my car and no i can't answer. everything is bound to go down hill if i answer.