to the boxes i go

these words pour from me
i do not want that pill
just yet
for i am waiting for his friend
sweet superman
to pass along my words
to him
fruitless words
for he feels he has deceived himself
and therefore me
and now he will replace me
for what is comfortable
i do not know her
only what he spoke
and i fear for him
and yet i know he needs the pain
pain that i have
that i want to share
with him
instead she spoke the words
he needed to hear
disown?
no
i do not believe that
but who am i to care
who am i to judge her?
my fruitless words
to him
will be tucked away
like the others in
boxes
just like the many
in my dusty boxes
of the past