Teacups and Pens

Promises

When your eyes

finally shut closed,

after the hours

they've been open, analysing,

observing,

capturing color in your mind,

mine stay open

and stare into darkness.

When you fall into a deep

dream-filled slumber,

I lie awake

and wonder what thoughts,

with the subject of me,

may pop up throughout your waking hours.

Of course,

we're just friends.

Of course,

you're just busy.

Oh sure,

you won't be as busy this week,

the amount of work is subsiding.

Oh sure,

we'll meet up and maybe move closer

to the whole 'let's have a real conversation' goal.

But your promises are slipping.

The sincerity is slowly disappearing.

Promises seem harder to keep, darling.

How much longer can you bear

to keep shattering these already broken agreements?

These oh so hopeful lying transactions

injected into a single message on a bright screen

that is so easily poker faced.

How much longer can we continue like this?