we talk in the dark,
hiding our eyes
and the cracks
in our smiles.
they're forced, of course
so they begin
to chip away
at the shine we both had,
threatening to expose
the true thoughts
that encapsulated
a depressed spirit.
so we talked in circles
to avoid
getting to the end.
repeating history
even though
the pages were soaked
with misery.
we still re-read the books
hoping the ending
would be different.
but still they remain,
the words we say so often,
painted in my mind,
hoping that I've lost them.