Response
By Beverly Greene
This poem is dedicated to a woman I once thought I loved, the woman I wrote this poem for in response to something she wrote for me. I hope you found whatever it was that you needed, where ever you are.
NOTE: This poem is protected by international copyright laws and may NOT be reproduced in any form without the author's expressed and written consent.
You told me
that you can feel
me moving away.
From where?
From the safe place
you flung me to
when I got too close
to your heart?
Are you so sure
that it's me who moved?
We stand here,
in the desolate space
of my mind,
looking at each other again.
What do you want
me to say?
Will you ever even hear me
over the miles of feelings
you keep from me,
the turbulent wind
of feelings you never
respond to?
How can I make you
finally understand?
I do love you,
long for you,
ache for you.
But is that enough
to deal with the pain
of our separation?
Is it enough to survive
you shoving me out
of your life,
your heart
despite my pleas
uttered through
shallow breath
and tear scarred eyes?
What else can I say
that I haven't already
said in desperation before?
Do you want me to tell you
that I'll give her up?
Well, I won't!
That does not mean
that I don't love you,
Goddess knows I do!
It only proves
that I too am human.
I need a place of solitude
to hide in from the storm
of my emotions and thoughts.
I wanted that place
to be with you
but I only found it
in my thoughts of her
while you took your leave,
leaving me knowingly
to worry
and wonder
and fear.
I need someone to
calm the winds,
stop the rain
and warm my damp soul
with the blanket of her love.
All I got from you
was another cold breeze
as you exiled me
even further away.
Can't you see
the love in my hurt eyes
even from so far away?
Don't you hear the whispered screams
of my heart telling you
that I'd gladly make it all
go away, if I only could?
I've held you in my cyber arms,
kissed your imagined lips,
touched the dream of you,
made love to the thought of you,
cried real tears for you,
and it wasn't enough.
I've mailed my heart
on a postage stamp,
my soul moistening it
with hope that it could stay,
safe.
What else can I say
that hasn't been said?
You never bother to answer me anyway.
You just leave me here,
standing,
alone,
the storm in my mind raging,
muffling my voice
so that you can't hear
as it cries out "I love you!"
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� 1999 Beverly Greene owns all rights to this original poem.
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