She knows who she is, but not what she has done. |
It doesn’t come as easy as it once did The darkness has receded and in its place left only blankness The unmitigated scene of forever spent alone An inexorable truth only caught on sights peripheral Catalogued and stored for later consumption Only realized too late for the life altering certainty it is Unavoidable and unassailable in its justice A character assassination sanctioned by its target The path laid before easily recognized as Robert Frosts Less traveled, less worn, hard to find and harder to navigate A bare set of footprints set in snow Cold and windswept, revealing nothing other than its exodus Inept and unwilling to make necessary changes Words become trivial Only the actions are judged Deemed distasteful and lacking It becomes hard to battle outside feelings of superiority Confronted with militant super-ego Goose stepping without emotion Demanding perfection from others, while flaunting personal flaws It has become unrealistic for this love to continue Outdated and morose in its inequity Requiring a better person exist, where there is none Needful in spurts, indifferent in perpetuity To say that I will never be able to see that look in your eyes again would be an understatement A non-verbal condemnation so violently instant and assured Breaking down all barriers erected for self preservation Leaving me open and exposed to all the elements of our consort In the end, as in the beginning I shouldn’t have to beg to be a part of you And I shouldn’t be left wishing at night That you weren’t a part of me. |