where have you been;

or how have you been,

maybe that’s a better place to start?

people ask me about you.... they expect for me to talk about your failures.

instead i tell them of your success,

that’s a better story to tell... if i have to tell it.

cause hate never tore us apart,

we both had too much love to give.... even if it didn’t keep us together.

we both had too much life to live.... we just couldn’t share it together.

my hands are tainted, i realize as i flip through the pages. i’d never point a finger at you.