I had a dream.
I was you. You were me.
In the mirror of ourselves
I saw my particular cruelty.
I am ebb. You are flow.
Two motions of the sea
Both interacting, avoiding,
Responding to different gravities.
I saw myself in your eyes;
Your heart beat in my chest cavity.
You were faithful when I was not,
Stable when I despaired the misery,
When I wallowed in the mire of myself
You tried to shake me, make me see.
After all these years, these miles,
These little love notes, all our dreams,
I still see what I could not be for you.
I shoulder that blame entirely.
Maybe the greatest gift I never gave
Saying goodbye gracefully,
Acknowledge, relinquish, perhaps forget-
Let time slowly consume what morsels I carry.
Follow the propulsion of our brief collision,
Embrace the distance, the imposed anonymity.
A goodbye to you is murder to me,
Smothering the last hope of who I could be.
Did I run away, or stay until I could forge
Someone better, someone valued more appropriately;
To stand side by side, not at odds.
One you could love fully, without pity,
Remorse, or frustration- not with lips,
Appetites, or eyes closed tightly,
But thought, heart, faith- My mistake
Has always been in my desires, shamefully,
And I have my mistakes, my expired hopes,
My dreams of us, and always childhood memories.
I have the knowledge I was cruel to remember,
Cruel to hold on, but kind enough to leave-
Leaving you to simpler loves, simpler times,
A simpler existence than any I could weave.
Simplicity brings deeper joys, uncluttered moments,
Unexamined, uninterrupted peace.
I was always the mess, always the liar,
Until the night I spoke truthfully.
Then a runaway, an ingrate,
A coward in the face of victory;
Victory incomplete. I find solace
In my unilateral obsessing.
Had you cared, had you stayed awake
One long night thinking of me,
How could I speak a word to you?
How could I bear to speak affectionately?
I’ve lived these long hours in your shadow,
Lived beneath you all these years between.
You, an anchored vessel of honor, and I
Adrift in the humiliation of tragedy.
You, a gem in your long lineage.
I, a vagabond with a past, but no history.
You, the prided son who stays.
I, the beggar orphan who flees.
With empty hands to offer you
Stains to mar your beauty-
It was right to leave, right you love