|
| |
A Pound of Flesh
What is it that you need from me? -
I pray that you do tell.
For everything I've offered -
hasn't gone over too well.
Patience as you grow? -
As you learn from your mistakes?
No, that cannot be it -
because you've never really changed.
Could it be understanding? -
For me to learn just how you tick?
No, that can't be it either -
I know so much that I am sick...
Perhaps it is forgiveness -
to swipe the slate so it is clean.
No, because you've shown me -
that you'll do just what you mean.
I've come to think that silence -
is the thing you sink from me.
For me to not disturb you -
with the pain that you've been causing.
Do you desire smiles? -
Laughs? For me to eat my feelings?
For me to just get over it -
while you help none with healing?
To water down my pain -
so that you don't have to be bothered?
To pretend things never happened -
so that you and I "get farther"?
A pound of flesh you ask from me -
do I really even matter?
Or is it what you gain from me? -
It's now clear that it's the latter.
So now I turn the tables -
what is it that I require?
A pound of flesh I fear. -
Compared to yours? The cost much higher.
I now require honesty -
transparency as such.
I demand from you respect -
tell me, dear, is that too much?
I must be high up on your list -
I must be a priority.
I demand you be considerate -
and for unwavering loyalty.
This may seem alot to ask -
but it's time I claim my worth.
If you can't pay me your pound of flesh -
you must find someone else to hurt.
Copyright ©
Chelsea Stufleben
|
|