It?s been twelve years since our lives forever changed,
in pace and rhyme that would always make us different.
Twelve years since you broke my heart, destroyed trust,
deceived me, in ways I can never erase, try to forget.
Twelve years since illness overtook my life for good,
changing every perception I ever had that was solid.
Twelve years since other people, anger, stole our lives.
Did they or did we give them away to foolishness, fear?
Twelve years of picking up pieces of "us" easily tossed,
only to be rescued in hopes of saving our life together.
Twelve years of tears, laughter, attempts to erase betrayal.
Twelve years since I felt wanted and beautiful inside.
It?s more than a decade of trying to win, more than once.
Why am I surprised about feelings no longer existing;
unless thoughts of losing you cross my mind, panic strikes
my nerves confusing my thoughts. Last night you reached
for me only to be pushed aside in such a callous way.
Pushed aside for lack of trust, something I can?t find.
You have tried so hard to show me, why do I shut down?
Are we leftovers of the day, no longer fresh, still good?
Raw emotions are now only seen in times of anger,angst,
patience lost to our unforgettable hurts, the inward pain.
How do we solve this, how do I erase the deepest ache?
We were once lost in each other, tearing clothes,
grabbing and tumbling wherever we might find peace;
engaging in raw movements that were ours alone.
Where are we going now, where does your mind go?
Are you still with me or craving the purple haze?
Mine still goes to those days of sate, wine lust, longing,
yet here I stand stirring the pot to feed another need.
The pan sizzles, I ache to feel the heat it receives.
Where did it go, the need for me, times I could
not move without you following to fill your urges?
The mirror reminds me that I have changed, you have.
There are wrinkles, yet you notice my eyes sparkling
when delight of a thought, tickles, captures my mind.
Are we complacent, comfortable or tired, no longer
willing to work in ardor for a moment of release?
Dinner is done, we go our separate ways relaxing
alone as was never our way. Writing has taken over
replacing the raw passions I can no longer stir.
You seem happy, content, unless your world is rattled
by a demand that you notice my being.
Most days I know of the love you feel, shown so subtly.
Using little nicknames, kisses, pats on my behind.
You never leave the house without asking,
"What would you like me to bring home for you today?"
"Could you bring home what?s been lost, not forgotten?"
?Could you bring home my peace of mind?
"Could you bring home???????"
sjo/jazz
sjo/jazz 8/2009
Aug 21, 2009 @ 20:09:48
