Christian

Even with your pants down
around your legs
I can remember the way
you still worried about the whiskey on your breath
How bravely you fought the urge
to choke her to death
Even after thirteen years
of the finest education
we could get with our mid-range
property taxes
could you ever really learn just how
to say you’re sorry?

Even with your hands up
touching the air
I can still smell the fear
this nightmare in the chromosomes
How you thought you could be the one
to cut me to the bone
And after seventeen years
of the damndest situations
could you get by on memories
and stolen movie tickets
Did you ever get around to learning how
to take it like an adult?

With your fists shoved deep
hiding in your pockets
I can still hear the laughter
as I sing my self to sleep with the sound of your voice
(we all know how much Charlie
likes the younger boys)
After eighteen months of
adolescent posturing
did you ever
get beyond the basics or do
you still have to practice
saying good-bye with a straight face?