Sunday, July 6, 2008

Two.

She punches me
and says,
if only you
were the you
that I want you to be
that we want to see
the you that I know
the you that loves me.

There is silence as we walk
for a while
and I try to say things
as best I can
try to get words
out from beneath
the beating drums
inside.

But all I can do
is put my hands in my
pockets and try
not to let her
see the tears.

The tears
of the me
of me who
will be as she
walks free
of me.

2 comments:

  1. forgive this outrageous comment but this post works well to the beat of "One Week"

    ReplyDelete
  2. Forgive my ignorance, but what is this one week of which you speak?

    ReplyDelete