I thought of you last night,
Right before I failed to sleep.
I’ve been thinking too much.
If only we had met eye-to-eye,
So you could’ve seen what I saw.
Well, that’s just wishful thinking.
We were some odd math problem:
A triangle too obtuse to be understood;
Me caught looking for the sin between us.
I wasn’t ever able to answer it right.
The answer was doomed incomplete.
I was left with you as a kind of crutch.
And all I could do was laugh, but cry
When the ice wall of feeling was thawed.
And my life was left lovingly disappointing.
These curious emotions so oddly misbegotten,
Like a torrent of rainfall come just before a flood,
Destroying what could’ve been, there is nothing just.