|Dark Poetry #5|
|Party Guest: Unwanted|
since 2009-02-24Posts 45
The tap of conversation barely drips
as, too alike, our magnet poles, both south,
repel the words from exiting our lips
and draws more alcohol into our mouths.
“You're making progress”, “Baby Steps” says Ma,
but we’re not kids and years keep passing by.
No one thought you would take this so far.
Now I can think of nothing left to try.
My olive basket has been left to rot
and silence is the only thing we share.
If awkward moments are all we've ever got
you'll never have to show how much you care.
So we remain, mirrors facing away,
You turn and leave to bring things to an end.
I sigh relieved, yet still hope that one day
You’ll talk to me like you would to a friend.
In such an ugly time, beauty is the real protest
|© Copyright 2010 Peter - All Rights Reserved|
since 2000-02-02Posts 27738
Sometimes I feel so socially awkward I become physically spastic.
Your words provoked some kind of...shrug.
since 2010-10-30Posts 1991
Talking to a lover like you would a friend takes some doing, greytree. The physical demands and expectations get in the way of friendships.
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