Downloads / Non-Fiction / Pomes
I can't shout
Your communication
Disarms my aggravation
I want to be upset
Angry
But you speak
It goes away
As though I'm just glad we're still
On speaking terms
I hate myself
For being the weakness I saw in others
I hate being a slave
To my own sentimentality
The relief of my mood
Has been entrusted to you
Without my permission
I hate the thought
That your words might mean
Exactly what they say
It's too easy an answer
Simple to overcome
If there is not more to the story
I wish you could tell me
But I hate that I cannot ask
Despite your efforts to console
With promises of loves better than you
I can't choose my infatuations
Nonetheless
Neither can you
It's decided
Yours lies elsewhere
I know as well as you
It doesn't go away
When they say it should
The worst is,
I can see myself
Buried in the assurance
That one day it might happen
Despite the best intentions of my mind
It is a naive hope-ridden deceiver
I can see
The patterns I follow
But I can't change them