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Willing to bend
Could I believe
the words that escaped your lips
in the stillness of the morning
as I removed myself from your world
one graceless breath at a time?
I find no solace
in anger, in all my pain
that I have grown to love
with deepest resentment
when holding on sustains the drive
to live, to create, to maintain
a status quo that reinforces
everything I strive to be without.
Sun filters through window sheers,
the veil of the thoughts that keep
me here, imprisoned (it seems)
within the will of the once-loved
but now vacant passion
in the dark eyes inspired
by only the apparent victory
of self-righteousness...
I am not incapable
but hesitant;
not unwilling nor without desire
for a history that deserves
some reconciliation
but can not find it
cowering in the folds
of pride and preservation
where I have resided
(and you still)
and continues into
the deepening of every tomorrow
(the inevitable result of remaining
under the shade of yesterday).
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