True Colors

It seemed magical sometimes:
the way nothing that I said was lost on you.

I struggled through my mind
simply trying to find
words to capture the ideas
splattered across the
cathedral slopes of my skull.

And somehow
You understood.

And somehow
Years after a conversation ended
You could bring it up again,
Quote us perfectly,
And ask what is the same
And ask what has changed.

But now I realize the truth.

But now I realize
the bitterly average,
horribly mundane
truth of it all.

Like everyone, you only listen to the things you want to hear.
How did I miss that for three whole years?

on a walk that lasted hours,
I told you that I had something to say.
But I couldn’t say it
Because I knew you too well
And I knew you wouldn’t be able to hear what I wanted to tell –

I interrupted myself.
because I needed someone who
could hear “religion” without baggage.

And I didn’t think you could.

Outraged, in your understated way,
you insisted that even without agreeing
you could still understand.

So I explained.

And you plugged your ears and nodded
And said things that made it sound like you could hear me
But you didn’t
But you couldn’t
Or you just forgot.

Because last week I told you my secret.

I explained the puddle that had rocked me.
The evaporating puddle, that clings to the shape of the hole that it lives in
And screams to itself that the hole was made for the puddle
Because how else could the puddle fit so perfectly?

And you smiled.
You smiled.
And you told me that I was too smart to not come to this conclusion eventually.
You told me that the stories  in the book were too fantastic to be real.
You told me that belief in anicent mythology had no place in a mind like mine.
And you smiled.
You smiled.

And I reeled.
I recoiled.
My mind stopped its steady churning
And my face started burning.

You had told me that you heard me
All those months before.
You had said you understood me
When I explained the lore
Was not the point.
The stories could be metaphors.
The stories could be fables.
When I told you that we are able
To believe without the lore
You said you understood.

And it wasn’t worth the chore
To explain it all again.
So I let you echo jokes you’d heard
Until you took me home.

My friend.


2 Responses to True Colors

  1. lyricsninja says:

    beautiful. simply that… beautiful.

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