Poem 2

2:7:04

Seeping.
You wrote that on your hand one day.
Back when you wrote on your hands, and your jeans were covered with stars and song lyrics.

That word stuck with me, because it felt like what was happening.
He was seeping into your life and you were seeping out of yourself,
Away from us.

I heard you painted your room.
Light purple.
A color the former you would have scoffed at.
Covered over all the quotes, took down the magazine clippings of half naked women that you had pasted up.

You seem happy now.
But I have to wonder if you really are, or did a false sense of that word seep into mind?
The way he did.