Someone some day
Is gonna think I’m wonderful.
Someone some way
Is gonna treat me right.

I began to swallow
The pride in which I wallow
And it was thrown at me like dung.
My innate need to emotively communicate
Is someone else’s drama and low debate.

But ner will he change me
For in this manner born
lies oft me curiosite
me verve, me succor
me scorn that is simply me.

And he turned to leave so I said “Thought you wanted to talk?”
“That’s just it, I don’t want to talk. Gave up arguing, I don’t want to argue.”
“I didn’t mean to argue, I wanted to…”
“I’ll see you next week”
And I thought, wait, expressing my feelings, having feelings is arguing, but did I say that? No. like so many things I left it so as not to rock the boat. Instead my gut firmed up.
“See me next week?”
“See you next week, we’ll give it a week then see where we’re at”
“See me next week?” I’m thinking where the fuck are you gonna see me? I’m sure as goddamn fuck not gonna go to su…“I don’t think we should speak for a while,” and I had his attention.
“Let’s just give it a week”
“A week, maybe two at least.” I said and as he turned to leave I shut the door quietly.
No one should ever be made to feel “put in their place”. No one should ever be ignored when they reach out from the heart. And when they swallow their hurt, their pride, they should not be shunned. Then the sadness of loss came. I was pretty sure it would be more than a week. But I couldn’t help think if he were to grow and I were someone other than me, it could have been sweet.