Years.

Think of this- I told you, of the twisting ashes of years on our skins
That will be the trailing equation.
I have stopped saying my words out loud- the meaning changes when I do. And dear friend, you and I have nothing in common.
I have told you of my epic in an imagined conversation and while your thoughts held me to sleep – what could have been and what is pitched the battle tents on the creases of a smile.
The conversations dwindle, the gap just closes in and face to face- I have nothing more to say, except, did you know that you weren’t the only liar?
There the mirror image and the path of no return, a place of no exit and burning passions sour and stale – my thoughts are rarely erotic, perhaps I am freezing inside.
Perhaps.
I can’t love like a teenager - I wish I could. Older second by second – delving in the truth I dish out to you – I am older than the smiles you have managed.
I am older. Shattering and wiser as the cracks grow. This too will pass one day and I will regret.
I wish I had abandoned you sooner.