At this point I thought
I'd have more figured out
about myself
and you.

But I hesitate to say that
for fear you'd consider yourself
an enigma.

No, you'll never see my heart breaking.
Oh, it breaks on the inside,
but you'll never see it breaking;
only broken.

I read the story of Calypso
and considered the cruel irony in it
with you and I.

And I can't bare the role,
no I can't bare the role
of destroyer.

If tearing me down enlivens you
if tearing me apart gives you breath
I'm afraid that's not my style,
not my game.

I don't want little glimpses,
promises of "you and me."
It's everything, nothing,
and the mess in between.

Those are the only things
that satisfy.

I told you to consider your value,
and I considered mine,
and gave you my cost up front,
which was everything.