LOST

Please take responsibility for this, because it has already claimed me. Don't say you don't know what I am talking about. Everything has a logic to it; even anger, even love. There is a definite map that shows us how we got here, what turns we took, what motivations we had for stopping, what hunger we had that made us turn around and go back. It wasn't without guidance. So sit here with me and we will trace the lines together and figure out how we have such dark words that we share. On the couch, turn off the TV, tell me why you hide there where I can't get you. Where you change clothes and wear disguises so I can't see you anymore. I desperately want to see you, I need to see you so I know that this is the right way. That I wasn't upside down and backwards, heading down a path that I know is a dead end. I want to hear you, past the angry litany and reddening eyes, the sweetened stipulations, the feelings wounded and forgotten in a woeful sacrifice toward this road we are on. I can see, when I wipe the rear view, where we have been, and then I will let it fog over again. But we need to keep the windshield clear.