Considering freedom

Knowing entrapment brings, an appreciation, of release

That’s why freed birds will, one day, sing, again.

But, unfortunately, it depends ~

 

 

Tolerance

There is no such thing

Someone will always insist, they’re right

Giving into their ego is futile

Giving into God is  another

Surrendering is a fine line

 

 

 

The victim secretly likes the role

Until ~

The lights come on inside

Then, they make great domineers 

They’ve learned well

The controller preaches down a throat

They curse them, deep inside a soul

 

 

 

Sweet vengeance, on the unassuming, the innocent

They thought, it sweet

After all, they looked at only the book cover

The illustration captured the eye

They didn’t read the fine print

 

 

 

And this is love

That you would hold my hand, as I yours

That you not tell me what to do, or say, and I promise the same

That you would like me whether skinny or fat

That you would laugh, and not growl

That would not lie

That you would not lean on me because you are weak

You married me so I would carry you

Sometimes we are intimidated by life, but ~

I can’t support your weight, all the time

I am not God

 

 

 

Kick or whip an animal, and I will ask you to leave, and never come back. You killed, my dog. And, honestly, I hate you. I can’t get over it.

Night terrors from your insanity haunt me. 

 

 

Once you looked at me

Utter fear ran through my bones

I’ve never seen that look before, except on murderers 

I was scared to death

 

 

 

Love is an exercise 

It is a practice that’s eternal

It is unattainable, nor perfected on Earth

It is the greatest commandment

Many think they’ve arrived

I’m cynical that arriving is possible.

 

 

 

Please, don’t come to visit me, if I’m ill, because it’s your duty

Come, because you love me and deeply want to see me

That is love

After all, in my weakness, I shall not want to distress you, one bit.

So go home, go away

It’s alright

 

 

 

I want you to know

That in the deepest parts of dreaming

You are there

I want to tell you, but I can’t 

When you were traveling

When you were far away in thought

When you were sad

And when you chuckled

I saw you

I loved you

But, now it’s too late

 

Oh, and by the way, did you tell your new bride she was number four, like you told me, when I was actually nine or ten?  

I just wonder sometimes…

Sometimes, there is a need to sympathize with your “girlfriends,” as you called them, but now I empathize.

Ironically, you always said, “I hate liars.”

And, I believed you! You had me fooled. 

What a joke. You’re a joke. You’re a liar.

 

 

 

 

 

Tolerance, I’m weird… No apology ~ Just, am

But, you are too