i have been

i have been you.
content but not enthused
surprised but not intrigued.
the way adult lips turn up
when a child says something purely true.
yes, i have been you.
sitting pretty on a couch
legs tied
television on
apathy making the time useless,
the company replaceable.
how many times have i been you?
i have been
distant and brash,
the voice that never returns calls,
an interface even,
but never have i doubted
love.

where i have been

where i am now

measuring the distance is trivial;
it's mere existence holds significance.