last night I dreamt that dream again
the one you tell me
I’m sorry, I’ve always been this way
I don’t pat you on the shoulder
and I don’t say, ’s okay, we’re friends either way
sometimes I slap you and some other times
I cry
but I never tell you is alright
I say, why are you telling me this?
and sometimes it’s you that cries

the twinge is there in the morning
I recall you smiling and then some
you never said goodbye

But neither did I tell you,
I’m the same. Unless, of course
it’s us
you longed to leave out.