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© 2004 Aaron Traffas (BMI)
A little better—a little easier is fortune
when you’re drowning in someone and you’re sinking down.
A little tether would stop the forward motion and
keep me from falling from the higher ground.
Its another broken memory.
Though it tried not to break,
somehow it always seems to be
just another mistake.
I crossed the lines she drew for me,
her patience only lasted a while.
That’s why now all I ever see is her patronizing smile.
A little colder after each successive call,
then she warms back up and you try again.
A little older from the hard morning pitfalls,
all the sedatives, and the mess I’m in
You’d think some day I’d get calluses on my heart,
spend more time thinking about who I let in.
Maybe next time she’ll try to smile but I’ll say, “No.”
But that would never happen if she’d come back again.