...and it begins again - this cycle of loss
in which I mourn
by pushing away all that I love.
My heart and my mind could never reach a just compromise
before the battle takes it's toll
out of my passion.

And I don't want to miss him
anymore
so I push further.
And I don't want to deal with this
alone
so I walk away.

If only I could find a way to tell him
not to give up on me
without giving up on myself
maybe it could be different this time around.


But who has the patience
to wait for my clarity
When turning around is
Oh.so.much.easier.

And I watch myself walking
and I know where I err,
but I can't seem to stop.

This street is familiar in it's lonliness -
it welcomes me
like a hospital waiting room
or
a funeral parlour.
I tell myself I'm comfortable here
as I get reacquainted.


I cannot show you how to help me-
for that would be admitting I need help.
My facade says I'm stronger than that.
Before it even begins,
I know how this will end.

In time, he'll pretend it never happened.
And I'll keep walking
because that's what I know.


Familiar cycles are the hardest
to break.
But until I give up
I will try.

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