Friday, September 10, 2010

Educated Fool

It’s just times like these that really get to me.

usually when it’s one after another.

 

I see you in the sparkle of an eye,

the corner of a smile.

 

I see it in the swagger of their walk

and hear you in the melodic way they talk.

 

I know it’s you,

 

or

 

At least I think it could be.

 

And there

right there

 

is the problem.

 

I’ve learned not to force or fake you.

It never ends well.

 

so I wait

 

Not expectantly.

Not eagerly.

Almost ambivalently.

 

I’ve really been happy without you.

In contrast to all the hurt I had with you.

 

It’s just times like these that really get to me.

usually when its one after another.

 

I see you in the sparkle of an eye

the corner of a smile.

 

I see it in the swagger of their walk

and hear you in the melodic way they talk.

 

I know it’s you,

 

or

 

At least I think it could be.

 

And there

right there

 

Is the thought that makes my soul shudder.

 

The same ole thing all over again.

 

The only thing new is the clothes you wear.

The same blood that poisons me still pumps through your veins.

That was a little too negative so I’ll take it back.

 

The few times that were good were really good

 

Just

 

They never compared

or out weighed

 the bad.

 

For some reason.

You have this hold on me.

I can’t seem to shake you.

 

The older I get

The less frequent I even notice you.

 

It’s just times like these that really get to me.

usually when its one after another.

 

I see you in the sparkle of an eye.

the corner of a smile.

 

I see it in the swagger of their walk

and hear you in the melodic way they talk.

 

I know it’s you,

 

or

 

At least I think it could be.

 

And there

right there

 

I question;

 

How could one search for a thing and never find it?

While others have the very thing rain down upon them as they seek shelter from it.

Others run from you.

Others flat out:

reject,

deny,

and loathe you.

 

I do not sit up at night crying over you.

Anymore

 

or

 

Look for you behind every corner or door

 

I wish you would have taken this last bag with you.

It hurts to be reminded of you.

 

The you I never had and always wanted

The you I tried for and never got

The you that lives happily ever after with those whom

detested

and

cursed

your name.

The you that I don’t want to want.

 

Like I said,

The older I get

the less I even know you are there.

 

It’s just times like these that really get to me.

usually when its one after another.

 

I see you in the sparkle of an eye.

The corner of a smile.

 

I see it in the swagger of their walk

and hear you in the melodic way they talk.

 

I know it’s you,

 

or

 

At least I think it could be.

 

And there

right there

 

I remind myself

it’s the same old hurt called love again

 

You upset me too much

You take up too much time and energy

 

Scars and wounds that barely heal are what I have to show of you.

 

I cover my ears,

close my eyes,

shut my mouth,

and repeat to myself,

 

“It’s just that same old hurt called love again.

I won’t be bothered with you anymore.”  

 

I shut the door,

close the window,

and swallow the key,

 

But

 

Just like the tenacious little ant you are.

You always find your way in.

 

Maybe

Just maybe.

 

You’ll do right this time.

 

It’s just times like these that really get to me.

usually when its one after another.

 

I see you in the sparkle of an eye

the corner of a smile.

 

I see it in the swagger of their walk

and hear you in the melodic way they talk.

 

I know it’s you,

 

or

 

At least I think it could be.

 

And there

right there

 

I let you in.

 

Praying you’ll be different.

Praying that it wasn’t you.

Praying that it was some evil twin.

Praying that my heart has enough strength.

Praying to remember and forget everything from the last time.

 

I remind myself

 

I know you

 

And I wait

 

Time will reveal all

 

Once again.

 

©Christopher F. Brown 2010

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