The Paper Within Reach
If you had come just a few moments earlier, you would have found my pens spilled across the cracked wooden floor.
If you had come just a few moments earlier, you would have see the lines and lines of text that went every which way on the unlined parchment paper.
If you had come just a few moments earlier, you would have read the truth.
But you didn't.
You were the late. The subway got stuck at Chambers again (allegedly).
Instead you heard that I still loved you, that I wanted to make this work.
You heard that I would try to make more time for you.
All as the paper that knew the truth sat within an arm's reach from you,
On the second shelf of the coffee table where it always found its home.