Wednesday, December 14, 2016

She closed her heart







Luv her, a choice...
not a feeling.

She closed her heart.
Like the lady, that swallowed that fly,

I know not why.


I reached for her,
their, as a boy.


Their, on the bench, in the car,
she beside me.


Cuddled, under her arm,
like the puppet, beside me.
She, purchased the puppet,
at the pink ladies shop.

We had gone to the hospital,
to discover, why, I wet the bed.


She was damaged goods,
as was I.


When life gets tough,
it hardens you.
You grow a shell,
thicker with the growing years.


I wet the bed, this because,
distant then, began I to feel ...
Not luved, not wanted,
cast aside. ..


This, I had thought.

Fourty more years, we spent...
In this cuddle, or embrace.


I would reach out...
only to be pushed away.


In the end, she reached out,
to dance.
only to be brushed away...
...almost.


Still,

Once more, we danced,
and beautiful,  it was,


Then.