Wednesday, July 8, 2009


It seems there is no escaping,
from the tenacity of my being.
That caught me from childhood's grasp,
to wake from dreaming with a gasp.
I know who I am,
I see clearly.
Everything before me.
And haunting memories hang over your head,
and I am unforgiving.
But tis a wonderful dream,
to sit quietly underneath the melancholy of my being.
And watch from afar the actions of pretending.
That I could ever learn how to love,
your unspoken guilt.
And try to understand exactly how you felt,
when you hurt and broke everything I had to give.
And now I know you...
that broken smile you pieced back together in time.
That ignorance that I once claimed was mine.
Has been lifted,
and sicne been replaced.
With your bruised and cracked face,
and I am unforgiving.

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