on december twenty-third
you're telling me a story;


a goddamned story i told you
i didn't want to hear.


and it wasn't for the lack of plot,
nor the manner in which you speak,


but it was because i've been hearing that same
fucking story
since you first decided i could be
someone worth talking to.



12/23/2008
Posted on 12/23/2008
Copyright © 2024 Ava Blu

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 12/24/08 at 05:58 AM
That seems to be a fate that falls on many relationships, friendships, whatever. You could probably send a wrecking ball through their living room, screaming how you feel at the top of your lungs, and they still wouldn't understand what you could possibly mean. I love the flashes of anger in this. It never bubbles over, it never overwhelms the voice in this. It's tight, brutal and calculated. This is great work.
Posted by Joe Cramer on 12/24/08 at 01:41 PM
... a wonderful write.....
Posted by Anita Mac on 12/25/08 at 04:57 AM
Ever just walk away? Just leave them talking and peace? I sympathize.