where my thoughts go to die

mistakes

softly spoken graces
in the places where
my mind races
it was a quarter past noon when you
made a mistake by telling the truth
or maybe it's just me.
you said another felt for you and i snapped on the inside.
then things turned passive aggressive and
i said it was impressive how ignorantly
aggressive you were.
but time passed and my mind clashed
then i understood that i shouldn't be so rash.
it's funny how simple melodies and chords can pry at your memories
and make you unsure
like re-applying a fresh and vibrant
coat of paint to a dull and weathered room
and it consumes me, like you used to.
or maybe you still do.
or maybe it's just me.