today –

i asked –

have you seen –

my me?

bewildered,

at least portrayed-

you summoned up your ounce of –

empathy –

responded with eyes more cold and vacant

than winter desolation;

no!

today –

i asked if perhaps,

just – possibly –

i passed without you noticing?

indignant –

emotion-starved –

victimized stare,

your face told me more truth than any words

escaping from your tightly clenched lips…

and there,

behind your lie –

evasive as your affection –

i found – myself!

shivering,

cold as the embers of passion from a fire

so long ago left (not) burning!

you –

clearly defined by lines of

is,

is not –

presumptuous with God-like audacity –

dare try to –

know me –

confine me within the boundaries

of your supposition…

how ignorant,

sad –

to hold in your hand the most important gift –

and let it go…

friendship –

soft as summer rain –

deep as black –

big as sky!

simple as touch,

the acquisition would be –

yet you choose a life of solitude.

empty room –

key-less lock –

what purpose,

a door –

unhinged,

forever closed?

possibly

sits on the couch with

his good friend –

could be.

together they –

oh so carefully (OCD) –

plan,

nothing…

(if nothings in order, there can be no – something).

and somewhere on the other side

of  what-could-be –

sunrise (you know, getting past the mountain of can’t)…

i understand the feeling

of a rose blooming.

the sheer exuberance of life – unfolding;

exaltation –

joy,

unparalleled –

truly,

living!

(most awesome of all experiences!)

i trusted you with my me,

opened all the doors,

threw away the locks of insecurity –

gazing now –

into the sun –

i find it –

mostly setting –

pulling with it,

down like tattered blinds upon broken windows,

all light,

all hope…

i trusted you with my heart –

gave in to weakness,

bottled up from years of – all alone.

how did i know –

you did not have such gentle hands…

and i would become indisposed –

naked and alone –

a shell –

with wishes never heard,

tossed lonely on an angry sea…

beneath it all –

even below the ever growing pile of discontent…

layered,

ever so patiently –

my – defense –

(scar-tissue effect).

time passes;

and just as quickly as a borrowed breath – returned,

this now,

becomes our was…

what of it,

then?

false hope clinging in vain to should?

if we are less than everything allowed,

why – be – at all?

oh! i suppose there could be desire to rise above,

but even birds with broken wings

never forget how it feels to fly…