Something About a Space

This is a space that I can't fill.

This is a space that follows you and floats from me and there's exactly nothing in between.

This is a space that is only to be made nonexistent by you.

You say things, but not to me or at me and I have to listen to my bones and the voices around me to understand;

I stand Here as you stand There and tell colorful stories of the things you've done and you tell her and her and him, but not me.  So I'll stay Here and wait for your call.  I'll wait for your breaking that won't come because we don't work that way.

 (I'll wait for us to work that way.)

And now I've shown you somewhere new in which I don't belong.  I've shown you excitement and reality and experience through someone else's eyes.  I've shown you a way out.  And wouldn't you think she's a better crony than me?

This is a space that I can't fill.