Still

It must be my heart,
Alone,
Unwilling to move beyond,
A notion of us.

But apparently not…

Your notion of us.

Am I the only one
Gasping for air?

Aren’t you suffocating
With me?

Don’t you feel
Dragged under
By a nether world rip tide,
Deadly,
Smothering,
Unforgiving,

Drowning our dream?

No.

You’ve made that uncomfortably
Clear.

Maybe you don’t realize…

But perhaps you do,

That you

Exact from me,
Air to breathe…

Leaving me
To struggle in this void
Of your tantalizing,
Never-meant-to-be.

And now what?

Am I simply to be shackled,
Hapless, straining,
Unreleased
From a fantasy,

Though false…

Of shared,
Real,
Commitment?

Yes,

Still yes.

Unrelinquished,
Unwilling to let you go.

I cannot separate myself,
From you…

And your world.

You told me it was over.

I cannot hear you.

I must fight for
A taste of tomorrow,
A glimpse of a future,
A notion of completeness,

With you…

Still.

 

 

© 2018 W. C. Stacia, Jr.

 

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