| She calls me up at a quarter to twelve, looking for affection and wine. Wants to maintain the status quo where I am hers, but she is not mine. And she tells me secrets, and she cries and I don't know what is real what is self-delusion, and what is a lie. And what if I didn't play this game? And what if you opened up without needing to drink this way? And what if I gained some self-respect? And you gained some self-respect. You knew I was fading away from you, didn't you? When you can't deny you change the subject. Is it true? You gave me this, the tragic sixth the last time you played and weren't afraid... It was this. And what if we cut all these half-truths and I allowed my mind to be free. Why don't you just tell me that you want me here but you don't want me. She won't turn her face to me as she asks me to touch her She won't turn her face to me. And she says she might have a fear of intimacy. |
| A fear of intimacy |
| by Kevin S. McFadden |