Four Lads Stacked In A Trench Coat

Let Down Again

It's not you; never was.
It's me. I'm always in love
with a love that stays in my head.
I can't seem to make the words
do their simple things and
introduce myself.
My eyes avert on their own.
I turn into an internal,
inescapable tension.
And I don't want to just
know you. I want to share
secrets and dreams and escapes.
Your very last set of firsts.
But it's me; always was.
Even if the only thing
stopping us from being
a capital U-S us
is me, I still wouldn't be able
to get out of my own way.
Imagine me, saying
everything in this
entire poem, but in the
five or ten seconds it takes
when we pass each other.
Why am I always the one
to let myself down?
It's the only love I've known
to last forever, and it's
the longest-lasting love
in my past.