reason to live. No reason to die.
Floating somewhere in between.
Feeling bitter misery.
Wishing that you never knew
from whence it came.
The who is what's so painful.
Because you'd always loved them true.
The ache is gray. The sorrow blue.
Shot through with pain-filled silver hues.
Knowing what you never knew before.
The selfish lies that tore your heart apart.
The alibis that never paid their dues.
Turning back the clock again.
Swinging on the ends of quartered moons.
Where everything becomes too clear, too soon.
They lived the life that you had bought and paid for.
Convincing you, you never could keep score
while reaching deep inside of you for more.
More than you had ever had to give.
Wishing you to death that they might live.
It isn't love.
It never was.
All meaning lost
at such a cost
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2006 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .