by Jay Davenport
I try to write something to another,
But your name is the first that comes out.
The program, trying to complete my thought for me,
the auto-completer does not know my thoughts.
I wrote you many a time, when you were well,
When you were sick, when you were not speaking to me
For reasons known but to you.
I gave you my thoughts, and you gave me silence.
The silence finally re-broken, you spoke
Of changes, new times, new relationships,
My thoughts were no longer wanted or desired
And hadn't been in fact for some time.
No attempt at closure would be rewarded.
You fed me lies about the lies you told before,
Uncaring about the consequences, the devastation
You would wrought on me.
You didn't care if I learned the truth,
Only that I didn't learn it from you.
You knew, you knew, and yet I can't bring
Myself to feel anything for you other than love.
I cannot hate you, it is not within me, and
Someday, should you need me, you could
Reach out for me, reach once again for the
One who was there for you so many times before
Only to find me missing, driven off.
You have many friends, people who love you
For how you look, but how many people were there
For you during those truly dark times.
How many even desired to be there, to share
The darkness, the pain, when things were at
Their lowest, your lowest?
How quickly you forget, how quickly I remember.
The program that places your name into the
"To" line even before I can finish typing
Anothers does not feel my anguish, my confusion,
My love. This is no longer for you.
Posted on 10/22/2006
Copyright © 2021 Jay Davenport