Two to tango…

And still, we try…

Dinner, wine, snort,

and more wine…

Apple pie and ice cream

with wine…

Awkward conversation

mingles with the accusations

in each others eyes…

Neither one willing to speak

about the real problem…

Anger.

Guilt.

Hurt.

Guilt.

Those who are without sin

may cast the first stone…

We both stand on similar ground.

We both have every reason to feel angry.

Guilty,

and hurt.

 

 

.

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The end…

I wanted a soft word.

You couldn’t give me one.

I needed some kindness.

You had none.

I asked for your love.

It was gone.

I wanted you to visit me.

But we are done.

Confusion…

Running hot, running cold

keeping me in line.

Ignore me when I speak against,

how dare I undermine…

Days go by with nights alone,

my heart begins to pine…

But I know that underneath it all,

you’ve never thought you’re mine.

I face the facts and let you go,

you see that as the sign,

to turn up full of charm and love,

as though everything is fine.

 

 

.

 

Pulling myself together…

 

…And so begins a new day.

A day to hold my head high, and thus rescue my pride.

A day to busy my hands, in the hope that my thoughts will busy themselves too.

A day to surround myself with smoke, a coping mechanism.