Hello, New Mark
Hello, New Michael
Hello, New Mitchell
What’s your name this time?
What do you like?
Where do you live?
What do you think of my clothes?
Of my name?
Would you like me to change again?
Should I be someone else?
Someone more likeable?
Someone more relatable?
It’s nice meeting you
Small town, ain’t?
No. It is not.
But I still want to paint it that way
Think of it that way
I feel like this is fate
I hope you feel that, too
I have to re-learn you
The whole value of you
The things you want and those you hate
Until you choose to leave
I know you’d want to
I can see your feet halfway through the door already
even if you don’t know it yet
I guess the real problem with us is that we no longer see people as people
but as mere extension of ideas and standards of who they should be
and what they need to become
But I have no metaphors that will hold you,
the essence of you,
the memories of you
Your life is not a long quest about finding me
Nor’s my existence about keeping you
We don’t live in a rom-com but, god, our lives sure as hell are funny
Like long-winding punchlines, unwelcome revelations
and an abbreviation
wouldn’t even come close to who you are
and what you deserve
What you want from me are things I cannot give
And you demand patience which I do not have
Neither existing to give those things to the other
but I sure would like to try