In this city of the lonely
the dying
the hard-asses and hard of luck
it doesn’t matter to you
what I’ve seen
been through
cared about or my troubles
while doing so.

It doesn’t matter at all.
Why should it?

I don’t know you
and you rarely ever
know me so we’ve always
managed to get by with a
certain air of indifference
like the people you may know at work
at school in the hallways
on the streets
that you sometimes warm to or
mostly simply tolerate
throughout the daily course of
human traffic.

I have always felt that
something is missing
that something should be different so
I’m going to hand you my heart
without fear of what it would look
like to you.

I’m going to tell you things that
I haven’t told anyone.

I’m not going to lie or pretend
because I was never really good at that
to begin with.

I am just going to take this moment
to talk to you
just as though you were sitting here
in front of me
as that seems like a good start.

Would that be okay?

Great, here
pull up a chair.

Let us begin.