May end 2011

Sitting pathetically in the centre of my bed,
Thinking of the impactful words he has said.
My happy face has dissolved for the day,
Tears washed it away, on this day in May.

Rhyming does nothing if you cannot express
the torture inside; how everything is a mess.
If I were not an overachiever, it wouldn't be hard,
But I've told everyone my plans, played all my cards.

I feel constrained, bound to follow my word
Fiercely independent, stubborn, and I need to be heard.
I have things to shout, life secrets to digress
So I must never be caught in a state of undress.

I'm the goddess of holding things together:
The glue. But can I even stand the weather?
I have timelines, schedules. I'm ready to commit
Then the wheels stop turning and I must think and sit.

And if I were to choose the second path?
And extend the romantic inclinations we started in a bath?
Our life could be wonderful, but at what cost?
Can I give up and live with the Love that I'll have lost?