you hurt by example,
finding fault without any excuse...
but, it is after the fighting that you
rediscover each other...
that is missing... we can no longer find each other,
there is nothing left to rediscover... we go about
our business thinking everything is fine...
because of the love and we don't know why...
we wonder, "is there nothing more for us..."
he was sixteen and his parents
allowed him to drop out of school,
he was sixteen and looking for work,
minimum wage was all he could find,
he was sixteen and like his parents
aging quicker than all of his friends,
learning to live from paycheck to paycheck;
he was twenty-one and feeding a
family of four... his woman gone...
she was his no more... he was alone...
he was twenty-five, and his parents dead,
his children wanting more that he
was able to give them... he tried...
he was thirty and finally finished school,
he and his education grew together,
and his new bride made him feel alive;
together they found what money
could never buy but his missed his
parents and all of their talks...
all of his children stayed in school.
when I was young and imaginary
friend was who I played with...
when I was older and imaginary
lover was who I played with...
I don't want to imagine anymore.
our chance cam yesterday, but we
we all in meetings... missed out
opportunities and the leftover
options were not worth the risk,
so we went to the end of the line
to wait for them to arrive again.
before we end our conversation
one thing becomes clear and its
your purpose is different than mine.
problems turn into opportunities and
we shed our frustrations in nightly rituals,
each one as different as the clothes we wear,
our opinions enrich the often pale life
we accept as we hope that something
will soon change our bleak outlook.
what I wasted for was you,
what I received was someone else,
it is only as good as we want it to be,
not matter how hard we believe
that one day, it might be better.
,
what we want is kindness,
a gentle surrendering of our fears
what we receive is patronage
and a forced acceptance.
fire in her eyes was worth seeing,
the first real emotion in years,
and it ended on my shift as the
sun rose over the corn fields...
a time of harvesting and death.
we live in a make-believe marriage
in a make believe home
in a make-believe town
located in a remote countryside,
we live in a room of horrors
fighting just to stay alive,
hiding our identities from each other.
on the field of battle
carefully avoiding contact
we limit the verbal abuse
breaking after each direct hit
we are verbal warriors
taking shelter after blood is drawn.
he had no business being on the top
probably had some of my money
it's a good thing I'm where I am
there's not place to fall.
they tried to break our wills but
we paid no attention to their comments,
they tried to play one against the other
but we compared notes and decided
to keep low profiles when we could,
they tried to make us quit but
our patience got the best of them.
the house in which we live
needs fixing... much more
than our marriage does...
the house in which we live
is incomplete with it unfinished
rooms and incomplete furniture,
the house in which we live
belongs to someone else who
does not think it will ever be home.
the coats and ties pretend to be serious
as they gobble up their noon meals...
and their conversations flow as quickly
as their money and grows as quickly
as all of their voracious appetites.
more than likely it will be the weekend,
but don't expect my call... as it
is just a friendly gesture that
something might could be.
far away...
ourselves, we find
in a distant land,
a strange environment
complicated it is by
the loss of understanding,
ourselves...
we find far away.
I wondered through your dreams
last night... it seems as though
you had save the nightmare
just for me... behind
someone else you stood
as if to say the reports
I had heard about you were true.
she seemed reluctant
he was hesitant
he seem cautious
she was nervous
they exchanged phone numbers
even though the
call would be long distance.
she had him by the balls
and every move he made
left him openly nauseous.
she approved of his appearance
but offered little hope
for an affair... he, on the other hand,
had never been interested in him
and left her behind with a smile.
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