Friday, April 20, 2012

poetry: hard to be with you

Home always beckons like a voice I can't ignore
and memory always fails me of all the times before.
How hard it is to be here
underneath the weight of the load you give.

Constant words shoot like arrows through the air
pass out complaints, free of charge
How hard it is to be here
underneath the weight of your unhappiness.

We cannot pay attention to the stories of our history;
our ears have long forgotten how.
She tells with great remembrance
while we nod and glance -
the disinterest stares right through.

I've longed to draw so close to you
but your desperation, it suffocates.
You call out to know me
but you mostly do not want what's really true.

So, I won't give myself to you.

Sitting in this home, a Monday mid-afternoon.
You're airing all the things that haven't gone your way.
And though it's true I love you -
forever, I will love you -
I'll never be able to meet you,
save you,
please you,
when all that's wrong is all you see.

How hard it is to carry the weight you've laid upon us.
How hard it is.

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