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thinking of you
wistfully...
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well I know
this will fall
on deaf ears
but
I suppose you really don't know.
It is easy
for you to sit there
and call me a coward,
and so many other ungracious names
like you have
for so many years now
but the truth about cowardice
as about so many other things
is that inasmuch
as I would love
to just sit here
quivering in fear
and not doing much of anything
not taking chances
not waiting for another tree to fall
not waiting for the next insult to be hurled
not waiting for the next betrayal
not waiting for someone new
to find a novel way
to hurt a me
just kinda going away
and not playing
this stupid
energizer bunny game
the truth is
I spend a lot of time
doing gut-wrenching things
taking chances
that often
make me fear for my own life
and often leave me
in a great deal of pain.
I sometimes hate myself for that.
And there is never any thanks in it,
other than
for someone to tell me
I'm not doing enough
Its not good enough
I'm not good enough
I need to improve and make it even better
If I only I were a better person
Then I could be loved.
For which prodding
I always
go back and do
something
even worse to myself
in the hopes
it will somehow be different
this time.
But always the same results appear.
Love is always sometime in the future...
Attainment never comes.
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But I suppose I knew, coming in
there wouldn't be anything
here
for a me.
I was so sad the day I realized that.
Girls would just be mean
to a me
For all my days.
I just wish
I hadn't believed it
when they promised me
it would somehow be different
this time.
Had remembered
that promises
to a me
are never kept.
But I suppose
punishments won't take
if I can avoid them.
Sigh.
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Merry xmas.
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