So calm today
But, yesterday,
What an ordeal.
No idea what to do,
Everything he said
Was wrong,
Each word incinerated
In a roaring furnace,
Each gesture rebuffed
With animosity.
Some days
Are just like that,
He tells himself.
Still not sure
Exactly what happened,
He may never
Understand.
Threatened by someone,
For any reason,
Yet again, as always,
The latest sacrifice to his ego.
He pretends to be friendly
While surreptitiously making plans
To remove the offensive interloper,
Bane of his existence,
Pretender to the throne.
Tilting back in his chair,
He smiles to himself,
Admiring his own cleverness,
His natural ability to
Beat them all,
Vanquish imagined adversaries.
A chance encounter
In a place they
Both happened to
Be at the same time
For no extraordinary
Reason, but that
Became a lifelong
Preoccupation, unable
To free themselves
From each other’s
Gravitational pull
Regardless of
Time or distance.
It never goes away,
The speculation about
What might have been,
Whether she made the
Right decisions or
Prematurely caved in
For comfort or safety
Rather than courageously
Embracing uneasiness,
Believing in herself,
Discovering who she is,
Living with courage
Instead of trepidation.
He’ll never apologize,
No matter how much
Suffering and havoc he’s caused,
Incapable of admitting wrongdoing,
Unable to expose that part of him
That drives his every move,
A weeping wound
That never heals,
An unraveling tear
In the fabric of his self,
Dictating every reaction
To every perceived attack,
No one allowed to
See it in all its fragility.
Sitting across from her
Therapist, Kelly asks
Why all men are so
Messed up and hurt nice
Women like her
Over and over.
The answer turns out to
Be the the same as the one
From the faraway voice
In the back of her mind:
They are a product of
Insecure fathers and
The women who put up
With them.
Kelly mulls over this
New bit of information
And resolves that the
Cycle ends with her.
He can’t do it,
It would mean
Going down a path
Leading in an altogether
Unsavory direction
He would never
Consider but for
His desperation.
A summer morning,
Standing on a
Balcony inhaling
Quiet air.
Headphones on,
Listening to the
Song that makes
Him yearn.
A string of days
Blur into each other,
Slumped on a couch
Without a hope.
He was afraid of
Peace and love
An all it might do
To upend his life,
The time he’d have
To spend looking inward,
Examining his warts,
Why he believed
What he did,
His abiding mistrust of
Others and championing
Of causes that
Damaged others.
Worst of all,
He’d have to spend
Time with himself.
