Saturday, 27 June 2015
Out Of Sync by Allie Costa
The colors, bright for me, muted for you.
The flowers, drawing me in, making you sneeze.
The voices, calling out to me, welcoming me, never acknowledging you, not that I noticed. There were so many voices, mine the loudest of them all, and growing louder, the later the night became. I was pulled closer, deeper. The music and the movement and the people and the faces blurring together, that’s okay so long as they’re smiling, just keep them smiling, and you, hiding in the corner, never far away, never letting me out of your sight.
You’re furious with me, aren’t you?
You could have stopped me. So many times, you could have stopped me, but I refused to consider the possibility.
Because you’d always be there, wouldn’t you? No matter what I did. No matter what I tried.
You were right there. Watching. Listening. Waiting. Knowing everything I did, and thought, and felt.
You knew me better than I knew (myself).
I thought we were in sync. I never realized I had no sense of rhythm.