End of Day

Here it comes ... again, The moment I dread each day ... Those three words That I never dreamed Would take on such meaning. Why don't you just grace me With your silence? The silence I've heard my whole life, The silence that you screamed at me From your indifference ... Pitched with resentment, A resentment that I didn't even create, But took on for the sake of another ... The one who SHOULD have heard it, (But dysfunction ruled in its stead). I'd rather that silence ANY day Than to hear THIS: "I love you" ... I love you, Said from expectations, Said from obligations, Or fear that another might object To the double-standard if you passed. I hear it catch in your throat each time, And its sound creeps away (swiftly) with the hope That your god didn't hear the lie ... That HE won't call you on it, Or the lifetime of avoidance and neglect That created this late-life liability. Oh, how you cursed yourself now ... Cursed yourself to place This poison on your tongue At the close of each day ... Poison that eats away at the fabric Of your honesty, so greatly prized. I sometimes imagine your fingers crossed Behind your back like a child's, So that precious integral character Won't be tarnished with the reality Of what those three words REALLY mean, Those three others of the same number, The ones you WANT to say, (And the ones I really hear) The ones that you could support And speak with confidence and truth, Conviction and emotion and heart, But never WILL ... "I hate you". I'd respect that, at least. And you'd be FREE.