We greet. We mingle.
We’re glad we’re not single.
We banter. We discuss.
One of us starts to fuss.
I make a joke. You take offense.
You correct me. I take offense.
You try to explain. I read it wrong.
I try to explain. You read it wrong.
I get angry. You have no clue.
You keep explaining. I ignore you.
I fume and quench. You misunderstand.
You give me a “fact”. I clench my hand.
I give you “experience”. You refute it.
You give me “perspective”. My anger dilutes it.
I think of our problems, and how long they’ll last.
I think of the trials, both future and past.
I say, “I need time.” You beg me to stay.
I say that I’m done, and put my phone away.
I think, and I fester.
The dark ones, they jester.
I debate them and loose three.
They bite and they bruise me.
I look for an exit.
All I see are tempests.
I spiral, spiral, spiral down.
I call out to God, “Will you help me now?”
I beg. I plead, hear nothing, secede.
I see no hope. I crave. I need.
I give in a little, and they take a lot.
I lie on my bed, head turning rot.
I shiver and break, the thoughts have won.
I beg to the Lord asking, “What can be done?”
I writhe. I wrack.
If I ran, they’d attack.
I sigh. I cry, and yell them away.
One steps back a moment whispering, “One more day…”
I take the deal and sweat
Wondering if you texted back yet.
1 new message received. Click.
*1 cute, cuddly cat pic*
“Does she even get it?” I think, “Am I piteous?
Is this her trying, or is she oblivious?
“Do I even want this?” I think with a hesitancy.
“There were good times, sure, but put simply, she triggers me.”