She
I don't think I will come near her.
I saw her lips curl in distaste of me.
I heard her words and identified
their emotions: contempt, disgust, bitterness,
and especially, the will to say the most hurtful things
as though driving a wooden stake
right through the heart.
I saw her become her own dragon.
And though I don't think I am traumatized by it,
I remember how she held my neck
in her hands
the time I lost an expensive comb.
Now I know why her hands aren't gentle.
She just isn't gentle inside her heart.
And everybody resists her
or those nearest to her anyway
and she wonders why.
She always expects to be forgiven though,
one row forgotten after another.
And she will be.
Of course. I would never want her to be
denied that.
But her ignorance is sad;
that she doesn't know how to be loving.
And kindness of heart and mind - and speech -
she can't show to those nearest her.
I hope she will have the love of others.
Because she treats them nicer.
Me, she'll destroy the heart of.
So even if she may want it,
miss it,
feel entitled to it,
I can't let my heart come near.
Because she'll wonderfully tear it up to
smithereens,
and never ever be quite aware of what
she has just done.
It astounds me
how she never self-reflects.
It truly confounds me
that impermeable wall
that allows her to hurt others
without feeling their hurt herself.
It must have been her father.
It must have been her background.
She's misunderstood, intellectually, I know
She's misguided, might be, I surmise
Age 4, 8, 10, 12
32, 45, 54
And yet no one ever taught her
the gentleness of the stars.
My heart goes out to her
Because all I ever wanted was to be hers
Well, actually, to be theirs...
But even my heart's longing,
I temper with caution
No one is going to bandage and mend my heart
When it gets demolished the 4th, 5th, or nth time.
It's just that the way she is being,
must really be no way to be.
We were not meant to tear each other apart.
You must understand that she is wrong
Even if she might never realize.
You can't be her own personal doormat.
Your heart wasn't made for that.
So I do love her from afar
How do I not, c'mon.
But miles of land and water in between
is an unfortunate necessity.
It is sad for it to be this way
But for now, it has to be.
I saw her lips curl in distaste of me.
I heard her words and identified
their emotions: contempt, disgust, bitterness,
and especially, the will to say the most hurtful things
as though driving a wooden stake
right through the heart.
I saw her become her own dragon.
And though I don't think I am traumatized by it,
I remember how she held my neck
in her hands
the time I lost an expensive comb.
Now I know why her hands aren't gentle.
She just isn't gentle inside her heart.
And everybody resists her
or those nearest to her anyway
and she wonders why.
She always expects to be forgiven though,
one row forgotten after another.
And she will be.
Of course. I would never want her to be
denied that.
But her ignorance is sad;
that she doesn't know how to be loving.
And kindness of heart and mind - and speech -
she can't show to those nearest her.
I hope she will have the love of others.
Because she treats them nicer.
Me, she'll destroy the heart of.
So even if she may want it,
miss it,
feel entitled to it,
I can't let my heart come near.
Because she'll wonderfully tear it up to
smithereens,
and never ever be quite aware of what
she has just done.
It astounds me
how she never self-reflects.
It truly confounds me
that impermeable wall
that allows her to hurt others
without feeling their hurt herself.
It must have been her father.
It must have been her background.
She's misunderstood, intellectually, I know
She's misguided, might be, I surmise
Age 4, 8, 10, 12
32, 45, 54
And yet no one ever taught her
the gentleness of the stars.
My heart goes out to her
Because all I ever wanted was to be hers
Well, actually, to be theirs...
But even my heart's longing,
I temper with caution
No one is going to bandage and mend my heart
When it gets demolished the 4th, 5th, or nth time.
It's just that the way she is being,
must really be no way to be.
We were not meant to tear each other apart.
You must understand that she is wrong
Even if she might never realize.
You can't be her own personal doormat.
Your heart wasn't made for that.
So I do love her from afar
How do I not, c'mon.
But miles of land and water in between
is an unfortunate necessity.
It is sad for it to be this way
But for now, it has to be.
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