Incomplete

I gave myself an incomplete.

I gave myself a long two years

To learn what I could about you,

and I gave myself an F now that they're through.

You told me concealed untruths, unlies

Sharp and unlooked for, verbal, boot-holstered knives,

and I heard them with half-deaf ears,

Playing once cool, twice shy, thrice eager.

My mind, no matter how many times

Heated and quenched in heartbreak's hand

Cannot stand in front of my soft, foolish eyes, and

I still can't smell what you were cooking.

You found my weakness, but were you ever looking?