The Pretender
I left all these little clues where you could
find me hiding in the strangest of places
sometimes squeaking quietly like a mouse
nibbling on a morsel of cheese
casting a tiny shadow against the white curtain
other times banging pots and pans
at the break of dawn
in an otherwise empty kitchen
while you were upstairs fast asleep
my reckless display was just part of a nightmare
you could never quite piece together
During the workday when the house was lifeless
I would rummage through your old vinyls
singing as loudly as my lungs would allow
somehow knowing nobody within in a million
miles would be able to hear me
When you finally came home I was too weary
to make an effort to be noticed
could barely stand to see you so worn out
so I would wander a few hours between the walls
pretending they were part of an intricate maze
pretending I still belonged outside of them
pretending you were not as sad as it seemed
june two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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