Sunday, May 5, 2013

Divorced

If I could tell you how many times your voice rings in my ears, your name echos in my mind, your fingertips graze the back of my hand

If I could count the moments I miss you, miss us, the way we used to be before we were a definition, before we were living in the real world

If I could let you read my mind, feel my heart, would it make a difference?
Maybe.

I wonder how many more nights I will have to spend wondering if you're okay, wondering if you will leave me like my father did, wondering where your guns are

The guns, the bullets, the ammunition you have on me
The dirt, the lies, the secrets...

All like budding wild flowers. I'm so afraid other people will find out my misgivings. What difference does it make? Words and words and words and nothing ever comes of them.

There is a condition and I am not strong enough to put you before that.

I am lost. You helped my dreams come true. I strive, I worked hard, I dragged you out from beneath your blankets, made you open yours eyes to the light, and supported you as you climbed from the damp earth.

But I cannot walk away. As much as my mind tells me it is the right thing for you, for us, my heart just won't.

And that is why, although you don't see me trying, my insides are morphing, retching with the letters, the words.

I love you. But not ...

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