unlabeled

tempis fugit

good morning.

you don’t fool me.

don’t think you can.

i’ve known you since i was born

or practically, anyway

so by now you should be easy

to predict.

and you are.

because i can predict that

i won’t understand you

because you’re too good at hiding,

too good at fooling yourself.

i realized i barely know you

and that to me is sad

just because i’ve known you for so long.

you can probably predict

what i will do by now —

these things work both ways —

which is why i pretended

to run you down in the parking lot.

unexpected.

sometimes i’m angry at fools

and being one myself.

then i happen to remember

the time i talked you to death —

the time i told you

i liked your best friend —

the time we played

backyard elves and wizards —

the time you told me

i hurt your feelings —

the time i hid

so your camera couldn’t catch me —

the time you devoured lettuce

and looked like a dinosaur —

the time i hated your hairstyle–

all the times you’ve been there for me —

the times you’ve made me

laugh myself silly.

it’s twelve a.m.

i realize.

good night

(you fool)

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