Thursday, January 24, 2013


I can’t help it,
nor do I want to,
that half my breath is tied
to your heart

My poet’s soul,
the one that drew you to me,
has its downsides,
and I see the walls go up
between us as we entrench,
each on our side,

no one on the side of

When I am scared
I go to my heart,
when you are scared
you go to your logic and facts

we think we are right.
together, perhaps yes,
in the wars we create
no one can win.

I hear the door, old and heavy,
made of huge trees and hard iron,
swinging toward closed, 
freezing me in place.

But darling,
hear this.

I can take your anger
(though I know you think I can’t)
I can take long and heated battles
(though I’d rather learn other ways)

But the silence.

Take away my chocolate,
my iced lattes, even my ocean,
take away the sun and the stars,
but do not take away your heart.


Understand that so long as you are silent,
every minute you withdraw,
I feel punished for my questions and my desires.
Every minute the door is locked
I will not stand and pound my fists on it

I will sit quietly just outside
on the old stone steps that
lead to your heart
and sometimes I will laugh
when I think of you, clever and handsome,
and how erotically perfect we are,
and sometimes I will lose hope for a moment,
whisper to myself
and cry
and look up to the heavens
asking “what did I do?”

But I will wait
because you will always be worth waiting for,
even if I must endure
the silence.