... and I keep pondering

over your 2 seconds

 

Who are you

         and

    Why do you bother to dissapoint me again?

after so long?

 

a spontaneous attempt for rescue,

to which I keep convincing myself would be the last,

setting a justified act, 

in my own improbable realm...

                           The one where you decide to stay, 

                           The one where I swallow my pride,

Why do I let it bleed into what we really are?

Why do I let it

              abuse and

        molest

                           my heart, 

letting it play me like a puppet, 

an act I reluctantly practiced for nevertheless

 

too much,

it will always be

too much.

too much to see, 

too much to know, 

I locked up the one you used to love, 

because she gave in to your heart

too much... 

 

So, how did she escape?

from a prison of fear and anger, 

of your painted monster,

a lense of impurity, 

all to reassure you?

 

How dare she remind me

of my sympathy?

When SHE is the one to BLAME?

When I AM the one to BLAME?

for my mistakes, 

and for believing you are to blame too...

 

and for what knew, 

in those 2 seconds...

                                 a quick remark, 

                                                               and your quick send off, 

perhaps you too

understand it is too much, 

knowing that somewhere

you too have locked up the one I used to love.

 

                                    ~ Mari