You touched me in places
more sacred than even I realized
but never truly felt the depth of what lies
beneath my skin, its smoothness
something you cherished on the surface,
never noticing the beat that had slowed
within. You listened to my words
but never heard what they attempted
to name, drank greedily from swollen lips
until there was nothing left but raw
flesh and an ounce of pain.

Fragile, you protected what you thought
to be a rare and delicate flower, knowing
all along the strength and tenacity of its power.
Petals cannot thrive when they are sheltered
from the sun, verdant stems become gaunt
and weary once the shadow of separation
has overcome. I wanted us to bloom, create
a garden where tangled weeds once grew,
but our soil wasn’t fertile enough to replenish
the lush life lost between me and you.

I sit now and listen to the silence
that plays where music once used to
resound, alone with my thoughts
and my heart, anger and resentment unwound
and I realize that I am not afraid, no longer
feel the need to sit and cry, write
another tired ass love poem or beg
for a reason why, content with
sitting on my front stoop watching
the wheels of change roll by.

03/21/2006

Posted on 03/21/2006
Copyright © 2025 Malika Bierstein