Get Published on Female First

Get Published on Female First

I tire of explaining or justifying myself; I am - for better,

or for worse - who and what I am, here and now.

Do you want to hear how, over how ever many weeks,

I did not respond or make contact? The details of 100

 

domestic dramas, the pressure of work, or simply

I didn’t have the will, drive or energy to front up?

It doesn’t matter, not to you; it did to me at the time,

might still do. You’re likely to never know.

 

We are strangers when we met,

slightly less stranger when we parted.

Adrift in time and space? Yes. Makes no difference,

the separation in part was purely illusory.

 

So take as you see me (literally or metaphorically);

consider me a mirror. I see myself in what you share,

to varying degrees. Empathy is admirable, but shaped by ego.

We are strangers when we met, slightly less stranger when we part.

 

Strange, connectivity; feels “real” at the time. maybe multiple times:

too fragile, mind says “so be it”, heart screams “No!”.

Refuses to let go; not immediately, not for some time.

The anger, resentment floods into void. Not nice,

 

not nice at all. So, don’t play “Let’s Pretend”. It happened.

Didn’t need to; you always had your passport packed for a quick exit.

Seems you were unaware. No coercion, demands or expectations

above your sharing what you could, when you could and if you wanted.

 

Might be lazy, at worst, plagiarism; Leonard Cohen says it so much better.

“but now it's come to distances and both of us must try,

your eyes are soft with sorrow,

Hey, that's no way to say goodbye. “


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