Saturday, February 5, 2011

SPEAK (NOT A POEM)

I do not express well outside
the boundaries of these
poetic walls I have constructed
so that my heart might
be protected from that
which I am far too sensitive to.

Eloquent words might be
in my vocabulary, but rarely
are they verbally shared
with someone whom
I care deeply for.

I stutter, my pulse races,
and I am prone to bite
my bottom lip to the point
of wincing. It's not a
romanticized image of a
girl, but an honest
reflection of a woman
who was willing to
try to change just so
that I might hear
your laughter
in my ear
once
again.

And while I'm typing
this confession,
I should mention
that when I knew you
hurting,
I was wishing
I could bind my tongue
so as to prevent my mouth
from speaking unknowingly
hurtful things to you.

That though you failed
to realize that I was hurt
too by your statements,
that it seemed only
you and what you needed
was important.

If it required me to be mute
in order that you might
feel free to share that
which you desired to say,
I would consider it,
if only to make you happy.

But I don't have it within me
to make you happy,
we both know that.

I am stubborn and well worth
leaving, as I don't like to be
prodded into the responses
you're expecting, or urged to
be silent when I am
also hurting, as it seemed
that my pain is less
important than your own.

You prefer silence
when you're speaking,
so that you might safely
share your thoughts with me,
but who was listening
when I tried to tell you
why I held off?

So, you ignored the words I was
whispering to you behind these walls/
and failed to note the sound
of tears falling upon the
phone/preferred to focus on your
own feelings & what you wouldn't take,
rather than what I was giving to you.

Ignored that I'd spent hours
in laborious effort penciling
my heart to you in rhyme,
that though it wasn't
given to you in the time
in which you wanted it,
that perhaps I just needed
to wait for the perfect
moment to tell you
what you should
have already known.

But you preferred my silence
over poetry, scrutinized me
for a moment rather than
waiting for the hour
of unveiling, so now...
what have we both
but yesterday and
the possibilities
of tomorrow with others
who will never touch us
as we did each other.

You have what you wanted;
I have listened as you've
expressed how you were
feeling & without any
inkling as to your
doing exactly to me
what you wished not
to be done to you.

I have gone unheard,
as you wanted
immediacy & misread
my hesitancy to give
you what you wanted,
when all I wanted
was for you to give me
a moment in which
to speak.

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