While I Cry

                                                                                                                                 ~

I know I love you

But, dear, when it comes to you

I’m never sure why.

~

Nor, it seems, are you.

But, dear, when it comes to that,

I’m too scared to push.

~

You love me, you say

But, dear, it scares me so much

Hearing what I need.

~

I try explaining

But, dear, when it’s said to you,

Words always fall short.

~

I take time to trust

But, dear, when it came to you,

I forgot briefly.

~

My voice stumbles, falls,

And, dear, I fear it happens,

You misunderstand.

~

Meant as confession,

You take offense, but that was

Not ever what I meant.

~

You are everything

I prayed for all those long years

When I had nothing.

~

You, my dear, all that

Never seemed possessable

But, dear, I was wrong.

~

I have told you this

But, dear, so have too many more.

I’m too weak to shout.

~

You first, you tell me.

Belief comes harder than trust

So I fear to call

~

In fear of the day

I rely to no reply

So please forgive me.

~

I want to share all

But I’m not half who you are –

I cannot lose you.

~

You’re leaving too soon

What will I do without you?

No one else loves me.

~

My sweet, sweet heart, love,

You’ve restored crushed hope, I thought

But now I wonder

~

Was it therapy

Or an anti-depressant?

I will find out soon.

~

I want to beg you

And elicit promises

But bondage breeds fight.

~

Repression always,

Now I see regression too.

Old cures come to mind.

~

It is a dark road

One I’ll make sure you won’t see

For whose good, can’t say.

~

Don’t fault my brusqueness

I use it like lavender

Or as reminders.

~

I want you to know

With absolute assuredness

That, dear, you are loved;

~

If even you take

A thing from me, from our years,

That it be just this.

~

You are loved, my dear.

You are my role model, dear.

You are beautiful.

The Conversation We May Never Have

Trifecta’s challenge for the week:

MANIPULATE (transitive verb)

1: to treat or operate with or as if with the hands or by mechanical means especially in a skillful manner
2a : to manage or utilize skillfully
b : to control or play upon by artful, unfair, or insidious means especially to one’s own advantage
3: to change by artful or unfair means so as to serve one’s purpose : to doctor
 
 

You lied when you signed it.

You had no intention of keeping your promises.

I went back, though.

Checked for a loophole.

There was none.

It wasn’t the words of the document you tried to manipulate –

It was the truth.

(And it worked.)

I loved you, you know. In my own way.

Sure you weren’t the wittiest kid on the block

And sure you weren’t the fullest of life.

But you were my friend.

Smiling,

Loyal,

Good.

Until you screwed everything up.

I lost more than what you took from me that day, you know.

I lost you too.

And you meant more to me than I will ever admit to myself.

Ever.

Because it’s easier to pretend that we never really hit it off

Than to admit that I liked having you around so much that it never seemed to matter.

But what’s done is done.

And all this…

Well, it’s my fault too

Because I have a hard time letting things go

And an ever harder time letting people go.

Sometimes when you smile at me in the street,

I am enraged by your audacity

But, more recently,

I just want to give in and hold you tight

And have you hold me tight.

But something tells me

(Or maybe someone did)

That that’s not healthy.

But I will say here,

In the privacy of a worldwide audience

Where you may never find me,

Where I don’t have to look into your eyes as I rage

And storm

And blame you

And then break down midsentence

Because of a rising sob threatening to choke me,

Here,

I will say this:

I loved you.

I would’ve protected you for the rest of my life

If you had only kept the one promise I needed from you,

The only promise you ever made me:

To keep us all together.