sometimes it’s easy to listen to your voice
telling me of your trips into the night
your conquests
those you leave behind
crying and confused
after slipping out of their sheets
and into your guise once again

sometimes it’s easy
because as your friend
I know you need someone to tell
someone who will listen
to the part of you that is haunted
with all this hurting
you lay down

it’s easy when you come around here
and tell me,
when you know
that pain is something you cause
that love is something you ignore
that you’re just as messed as many
it’s easy when I remember you’re human

lately though…

it hurts when you come around here
thinking it will be easy for me
to listen
because all the buttons you push
those random lives you disrupt
are people I know
people that hurt like me, like you

when I hear you chirp about your conquests
it shouldn’t, but it does
remind me of how lonely I am
of how the only intimacy of that nature
I’ve felt in a long time
came from someone like you
who could have been with anyone

it hurts to be alone
and listen to you
brush your shallow ego
with stories of lust and false love
it hurts because I know
that if I could find that place which eludes me
I – like you – wouldn’t know what to do with it