We’re almost face to
face,
But you won’t look at me,
Make light with
jokes,
When this is so
Uncomfortable,
I tell you that
I love you,
I’m in love, still,
And you can’t
Return
the
feeling,
But won’t walk away,
Won’t see
me go;
And so belabor the pain.
Next to You
Oh how it hurts,
Knowing I may not end up
Next to you,
But how I will try,
To stay by your side.
(Not Sorry) I Love You
I love you,
You know that,
And we’ve been through so much,
Come so far,
And I love you,
So I am sorry if I loved you before you were ready,
In a way you can’t love me,
But I love you,
So I want your happiness,
Even if that means without me,
Even if this feels like death,
I am sorry,
sad this is,
As it is
But I am not sorry I love you.
Putting Down the Dog
“Let’s go for a walk, “
He said
“Just us,”
And to our daughter that she should stay home with her aunt and uncle,
Unusual,
I made a cryptic joke,
About putting a dog down on such a walk,
I was to realize just how close such a phrase was,
We walked out back
–Our daughter followed,
And we rested in the middle of a vacant path,
And in a clear, but quivering voice
He shot me
With words of “it’s me, not you”,
And “I love you, but I’m not in love…”,
And as tears bled from my brown eyes,
I was suddenly alone,
Part of my heart dying there on the gravel road,
My body has moved,
With aimless motions,
In a daze,
And as it all settles in,
I am still here,
Like a put down dog,
Dying.
But
Unprecedented
The pain I feel,
Sucker
Punched
With words of best intentions,
I love you, but,
But, but,
Three letters that sting,
Nails on a chalkboard,
A sudden fork in the road,
A hug, but,
A kiss, but,
But
And I still have these same four letters
For you.
And They Came With Guns
And they came with guns,
Angry,
Determined to end,
The restrictions set forth,
The vinyl gloved,
Masked nose and mouth,
6 feet of distance restrictions,
Priorities first precautions,
Laid forth to try,
Try as we may,
To stifle the exponential death,
Befalling the masses,
Reducing the number of graves of masses,
And they came with guns,
Claiming freedom or death,
Not recognizing death is already the prime player,
Death is the face staring back,
At the fool who only wants “to live free or die”,
Publicly choosing the former,
When living free means accepting death,
For one and all,
Living free,
Without precautions,
Without boundaries set,
For petulant children,
Is choosing mortality,
For each,
And all, unequally,
Death distributed,
Just like it is with liberty and justice;
For all?
And they came with guns,
Masked pale skinned
“Patriots”,
Demanding freedom of mobility,
Before a plague,
Ignoring their fallibility,
They were fearless,
For before a white supremacist society
They had nothing to fear,
Their intimidation,
Was intimidating,
But made no threat to the true establishment,
And they came with guns
She of Letters 