I thought you'd still keep our love fresh at 40 yet it seems spoilt halfway.
Lonely, it is swept by like a tumbleweed as it moves at your every whim
Undone are our plans
Ripe and torn is my hope
Wrinkled is your mercy for my toil, my sweat, my dignity
Why do I mourn a union I'm currently part off?
Where is the joy that is owed to me?
Where is my overly deserved award for my unsolicited yet abundant presence and warmth?
Is it so wrong to demand in equal measure what one feels is owed to their soul?
Forgive a poet for scribbling his emotions in tears and ink for its all he knows
Forgive an empath for being selfish this once, for caring for the one person they neglect; themselves.
Noise has proven it's ineffectiveness so perhaps silence will cut through faux peace.
It is better to lay in painful truth than deceitful comfort. You never know when you'll succumb.
