I have strength inside me yet –
walls were climbed,
placed in front of me
some handled less than gracefully,
unwilling to decide it was my time to give up,
even when I felt others give up on me,
their rejection and abandonment
I needed to see,
not always about me,
complex matters causing rifts and chasms
subtle and obvious.
I don’t want to believe when somebody leaves,
even if I’m the one asking,
I want to know each reason why it couldn’t work the way it should have,
ancient dialogues from ancient hurts echoing in the present,
but only for those who are distant,
who withhold their love in some form or another,
and I end up the chaser,
I don’t want to be anymore.
Even if I get what I want,
it’s never fully what I need,
an abyss of expectation placed on someone who cannot succeed,
because deep down I know they won’t –
of what my conscience knows,
what its comfort seems to be?
I reject it,
I have to at least say it,
to start to even believe it,
I want real love –
open, honest, healthy,
painful, scarce, empty.