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Christina Rocha Poem
This profound mode of being.
The restrictive, limited, modified reasoning.
His appeal to please me, his want to teach me,
His need to simply need me;
Diminishes more with every sunset,
He loves me no longer and seemingly without regret.
His love is conditional.
Not unconditional- like a mothers love for her child.
Why am i so riled?
Because i can see it pass through his whole being,
The coolness of his breath,
The ice in his stare.
This ache in my chest, I confess-
has me lost between love and love-less.
Copyright © Christina Rocha | Year Posted 2009
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