Just Here

I reached out to you,
and you pushed me away
AGAIN!

Too many times!

And, again,
you sleep,
while I sit up,
miserable.

I expected this of him,
but not of you.

You will never understand how I feel
because you will never allow yourself to try.

You have no idea what you're closing yourself off to.
You probably never will,
unless I'm gone.
maybe you'd prefer it that way?

You break my heart.

So, I hereby give up.
I hope you're happy.
I want you to be.

The ball is in your court now.
When you're ready to swallow pride (as I have);
when you're ready to focus on what's important,
I'll be here.

Until then,
as you wish,
that's all I'll be...
just here.

October 23, 1998

To Sleep

This is a life I recognize--
lying alone while he sleeps;
writing by mere candlelight;
struggling to get through the night;

praying to the moon above
to somehow in its glow,
grant me enough inspired peace
to finally write myelf to sleep.

It doesn't matter how I strive
to not take things for granted,
for they will never see
how they truly have it!

Though I'll treasure each good thing,
I'll never be seen in the same light
I've wrapped their images in.

Instead, they'll see dark spots
and remind me of their cost,
and what shrouds they might bring.

Thus, as years ago, and for years to come,
I will be the only one
to see deep into his heart
and know the passion
waiting to erupt.

I lie alone,
though we're together,
feeling so lonely;
so lonely,

and while he clings to moonlight dreams,
I will write myself to sleep.

October 7, 1998