No worries..this isn't personal. Just trying a new point of view.
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I grow weary of sharing myself with your blindess.
Every morning holds another moment
when I don't think I regret not kissing you
before I walk out the door to my day
and to my other thoughts.
The guilt and anger and pain
is beginning to subside into sadness
and a regret for getting the two of us in this.
I know your alone in your doubts
and your fears of watching my exit
grow almost every day
but it always did hurt when I could see in your eyes
what you shut away from me.
And I could always see it there
whatever you're feeling.
Because you're not so difficult for me to read
you squirm and try to shrink from the touch
of love that knows who you are
where you're going
and where you wanted to be.
You cringed from that love once
and now you have cringe so far
that its back aches from reaching down so far
and it is almost broken.
My love never did understand
why you were so intent on crushing the intimacy
of being able to see right through
to the you you wished you could be.
And you never did let me bring that out
like I knew I could.
You never did care that I could see you
and you underestimated my ability
to know you enough to come into the darkness with you
take your hand
and give you a gentle but firm tug
towards that man you seemed never to have the confidence to be.
"A good man" is a sad phrase for me
since that is what our love is reduced to now.
You're a "good man" who loves me yet shuts me out
and I'm not used to being in the cold of someone's being.
A "good man"
but never lover in heart and soul enough
to accept all that I could have given you
in return for all that you gave me.
And as I write through tears,
finally
the truth
just stains my eyes open
and I will not be able to sleep tonight.
Dream well of me,
but remember
you're alone because you chose to be
and I still have a broken heart
the one that was running toward your door when you slammed it longer ago than you realized.
With regrets
Your Wife

For all who watch.Dare you say hello? Come in and ask the questions that are on your mind, but spare me your judgement until you truly sipped of me.

Floria

"Alas for those that never sing,
But die with all their music in them"
(Oliver Wendell Holmes)

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Copyright: 2002 Newell Elsworth Usher