Tuesday, January 3, 2012


Time stretches.I stare anywhere but at his face,
his wide, pleading eyes.
I know that if I see his face,
the contours I know so well,
that I will waver.
He will see me waver.
Eyes dramatically filling with tears,
he will ask for forgiveness.
His tone so self-deprecating,
I will forgive him.
But only,
I tell myself,
because it's all his fault.
And this way, I relieve him of the guilt.
We both know I'm the strong one.
Strong I may be, but he knows how to tear through.
Right through to my soft, wounded spots.
It's our routine.
Our pattern.
Our relationship.
This time, I tell myself, will be different.
Is different.
Confident in my decision,
a decision that puts me first,
I bring my eyes to meet his.
As his eyes well up,
I whisper,
"It's okay."


Stephanie said...

The first time I read this, I thought you were speaking to Time. Were you, or are you speaking to someone else?

Or maybe it's just a matter of interpretation, which is lovely too. :) Either way, I like this.


Unknown said...

some of my all time favorite writings became my favorite because as the reader it felt to me as if I had been the author.

this was one of those kinds of pieces.