almost untrue

so often you hear
the words, we never
loved each other anyway,
not really, at the end
of a marriage.
it was convenience,
we got along just fine.
we liked the same music.
we felt we were getting
old. we wanted kids,
a home, so we got married.
we put the blinders
on, we went through
the motions, sex
was sexless. joy
was smiling for
a camera, posed.
and the years went
by. and the glue
was schools and kids,
and dogs, and
yards and work, and
barbeques and booze,
a casual affair or
two, and dreams,
and dreams that
would never come. it
seems like another
world, like it really
wasn't me, so far away,
almost untrue.