And today. Ah-hah, today I am knife.
Cold-worked, case-hardened.
Can you see my grinning edge?

Now I start a brand new game:
I see a bird,
I cut it down.

My Asphalt Menagerie

Alight, little bird.

Your vision is two-fold. Yours see more than my narrow eyes.

Flutter of feathers-- you do not hold my gaze for long.

So keep dancing, sparrow; you're not going to find your little bird.

(These are days of such naivete.)

There is so much weakness in you.

You, I expected. God help me, I wished that you would surprise me. That you wouldn't hide this time. That you wouldn't writhe your way around having to make the hard choice, say the hard word. But you did it. You hid. You writhed.

But you. Jesus Christ, you. You sat. And you sat. You sat and sat and wrung your hands. I can hear your voice quavering even now. And when you finally got there did you say it straight? Did you play it like a man? Why didn't you? No, you sat some more. You laughed, but kept your real mouth shut.

How could you and you let me down so badly?

It's not even about the choice; that much was always yours to make. But the way you took to get there. Spines of water, veils of chaff for words. She deserves better than that, you heartless cowards. For the love of God, she does.

How the fuck could you let me down so badly?

You are my friends. That much has not, will not, does not change.

But I know you for what you are, and it disappoints me more than I can ever say. I swear unto God Himself that I will not be like you.

I will not.