He loses no sleep over
Being the one who haunts
Their slumber, visits at
The most inopportune times,
Interrupts otherwise happy
Moments, the one memory
That can’t be erased,
The action unforgotten,
Indelible, an unignorable
Placidity-staining mark.
He goes merrily along with
His life, leaving other
Such trinkets in his wake.
She walks the other way,
Even though she recognizes
Him from a distance,
Some things are better
Left unaddressed rather
Than reanimated, causing
Further discomfort and pain.
It’s not so much that she
Can’t handle it but, rather,
That it’s not worth
Expending the energy on
To resolve in any way.
Her life different now,
No need to revisit.
It wasn’t always this way,
Things were better
At one point,
But probably not,
Knowing what I know now.
If he had been told
That he’d be going there
To experience something
Horrible, it’s quite
Certain he wouldn’t have
Believed it, such things
Almost always materialize
As an undesirable and
Unforeseen surprise.
As he got ready for the
Event, all he could
Think about was her
Face and how much he
Was looking forward
To seeing her again.
He still remembers
That evening, with a
Mixture of sorrow and
Venom, sometimes
Hoping he will
Have the opportunity
To repay the favor.
He’s still exactly
As she remembered him,
Whether that’s a
Disappointment will
Be revealed after
The conversation begins
And the things that
Have never been said
Try to make an appearance.
I know you’re scared.
I see the discomfort
Contorting your face
When anyone gets close
To exposing who you
Really are: The broken,
Hurt being who never
Had the love he needed
And was forced to pretend
It didn’t matter,
The gentle person who
Gets trampled so many times
That he loses the ability
To feel for himself or others.
I know you have some
Fantasy about a death bed
Scene where you say the
Perfect thing that makes
Everything okay but is
Just another hollow gesture
Meaning very little to
Anyone but you.
Things were never really
As you saw them,
Pronouncements aren’t
Remotely close to compassion.
Stop for a moment and
Think back to a time
When we weren’t fighting,
When we agreed that
We liked each other and
That we were both
Human beings deserving of
Being treated with kindness
And compassion, when we didn’t
Vilify one another to
Appease some internal
Feeling of discomfort,
Some part of us unfinished
That we refuse to address.
Unfeeling,
Although they writhe
And contort at his feet,
Gasping for air,
Struggling to live
Despite circumstance.
He never did care for
Much more than himself,
His history etched into
Him, inky darkness
Unlit by empathy or
The simplest kindness.
The saddest of betrayals,
The one who was supposed to
Love her, be there for her
When she was struggling,
Was gone, not in person but
In spirit. He had checked
Out a long time ago, if he
Had ever been there at all.
