this is a sort of prequel to response. they fit together like locking jigsaw pieces, just you see.
converse
the more i speak
the less i know
i attempt to converse
but it's more or less a throw
of my thoughts across a crowded room
and you just staring blankly
no response?
give me a response!
give me a blank sheet
white
white like the streetlights at 3 AM
the time i met you
the moon had a ring around it
like the one on my finger
the same one you wrap me around
i spin like i'm in a transe
like i nowhere and somewhere at once
time flies and i'm not paying attention
but yours is not focused on my thoughts
which now heavily revolve around your shortcomings
which i've yet to learn
i'm given a name
a name i'm drawn to
like your face
when you smile
when you laugh
when you stare in space
the dead air pulsates in my head
why don't you respond?
why won't you respond?
and then *ta-da* response!
ah, a respone.
your words swirl within my brain
not what i had wished for of course
but i can manage, i won't strain
why did it take you so long, my dear
to tell the truth
were you propelled by fear?
did you suspect me to weep for a rebut
or to awkwardly smile?
tell me sir, what
made procrastination
your new ally?
sir did you fret?
you believed i'd cry?
your words were lovely, painful, sweet
but, alas, sir, you're not the only
as i gaze upon this moonlit street
your words make me no longer lonely
for anticipation alone i did dread
now that you've spoken, i may clear my head.
