When I'm with you I think I know what's going on
I feel comfortable, secure, like I've been here before
Then disinteresting, like watching grass grow on the lawn
We interview each other about life, philosophy, and more
I learn and hear and sometimes actually listen
But I feel so unexcited, which has seldom been the case
Usually I want all to know and hear and watch me glisten
with pure joy and bliss, but looking into your face
None of that is present, it feels inevitably doomed
and though I thought it'd be easy, I guess I'm not so sure
I can't bear the thought of hurting you with what I've assumed
But I can't find my way around that as you continue to lure
So where should I stop in what you will eventually call
'leading you on? ' I can read what you want or so I'd like to think
I don't even know if what I'm saying is true yet at all
but ever so slowly, your hope in me, my hope in us, continues to sink
Andrew Jones
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sink-3/
