Sempiternous Grovel

Her eyelids met, as a tear trickled down.
She released the receiver. It fell to the ground.
Holding her breath, she pulled her knees to her chest,
trembling, crying, "It's all for the best."

At first, they were perfect. There wasn't a flaw,
but then nothing seemed right at all.
He didn't sound happy. He had to want out.
That's what the phone call was all about.

She did it for him. She loved him so.
She knew she had to let him go.
If he'd come back, it would all be right,
but that seemed to be the unreachable light.

Half a year has since come and went;
the loneliest months she has ever spent.
There's others there, but it's just not the same.
It's not that easy to replay the game.

She knew she was crazy. She knew this was dumb.
She felt like an infant clinging to its thumb.
He's not a Prince Charming. He's not her dream guy,
but he seems the one and she can't question why.

When she sees him, she twinges with a chill,
and her stomach churns 'til she feels ill,
but when he sees her, he sees a face in the crowd.
His head is now big, while she's filled with doubt.

She opened herself up to a locked away world,
and for a while, she danced and she twirled.
Now, under shattered glass and crumbled walls,
to the end of a dark tunnel she eternally crawls.

January 30, 1991