Monday Morning

I heard you slit your wrists
this weekend
from a friend of your friend
during my study.
I saw you go by in the hall later
and wondered if its just me
or were you laughing to hard
like you were desperately trying
to make it funny.
Make it all funny.
I wondered about the shadows in your eyes.
I watched you later,
talking to your girlfriend
and had to wonder,
'how does that work?'
I'd hate to be her
not quite enough to live for
but enough to fuck.
Only, that's mean.
I know you could love each other,
I've been second to the pain before
and had a second of my own,
I understand that story all to well.
Maybe that's why I sympathize
with both sides so much.