it is a fight
in the dead of night
a hurt we can't explain
a secret we cannot share
a love we cannot shake
it is the sting of desire
as it heats and hits, it hits
in the places we are broken
in the warmth of all denials
in the face of all we need
it is the fact that we bleed and bruise
when broken, the idea that we are
incomplete outside each other
unfufilled outside of the neon
of blue lights one lightning night
it is a shuddering of senses
the laying down of arms
in a battle we never chose
with weapons we've made ourselves
with the shields we've never had
it is a black bench
swinging slightly with admissions
of the things we have done
of the people we have become
of the future we have lost
it is a picture
silver framed and unassuming
leaking all the memories you have
and i am waiting for the deluge
for the flood that has to come
but it is the dam
you've built inside yourself
concerning all the things that hurt
so i speak soft words, you smile quietly
and i let it go.
© Copyright 2017 Josephine Ann. All rights reserved.
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