Baseball Cards

I hope your stomach drops,
every time you're forced
to think about Texas.
About me.
About who
you left behind-
right when they
needed you.

I want
to want
happiness
(for you).
But I
don't.
I want to be
graceful,
in my heart ache.
But I'm
not.
I'm tripping
through it,
the whole
way through.

You made me
bitter
and I made you
mean.
We traded half truths
and unspoken lies
like baseball cards.
And I never
for one splinter
of one second,
liked baseball.