I’m really tired of your apologies.

I’m tired of sitting there wondering if you’re coming back.
I’m tired of feeling foolish for waiting to see if you’ll return.
I’m tired of telling myself “five more minutes”.
I’m tired of saying that more than once or twice an evening.

I’m tired of feeling like I have to reach out every time I want to talk to you.
I’m tired of feeling like some of our conversations are just you punching your “time card” for the week.
I’m tired of feeling lonelier after our talks than before.

I’m tired of wanting us to be back to where we used to be because I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only one who wants that.
I’m tired of feeling like I wasted an evening by giving you my full attention while we try to talk.

I’m tired of hoping.  I’m so very, very tired.

Little people line my cup
dancing on tiny waves
only to drown on my lips.

There once was a wind
that blew through my heart,
whistling on its merry way.

But one day my tears dried up
and my heart became arid and desolate.
Neither sand nor sky stirred
and the wind stilled to empty gusts.

Little lost boy on the eye of the world
whispers prayers to unknown gods
and when he asks “Why?”
the night offers only reflection.

She shone.
Graceful through the pain,
she shone

“It’s never good enough,”
the voices whisper
in sinister symphony.

“Just give up,”
the night sings to me
in the silence between sobs.