Catharsis

Talking things through, honestly,

is sometimes liberating to do

and sometimes, to other people,

the hardest thing in the world.

I want space.

I want room.

I want what I want to matter again

and I can’t carry you further.

I am at an impasse,

where all that is good about me

slowly dwindles, withers and fades

and no one deserves that.

I have given you the world,

in small pieces anyway,

but heaven I cannot bring.

That is all there is

and sometimes our best intentions

produce our worst mistakes.

You’re a decent soul,

even if tainted by life,

and worthy and capable

of much more than you know.

I don’t want to set you adrift again,

into a world that has been so bad to you.

You cling to me for dear life and love,

but you’re pulling me under,

one trauma at a time.

Am I a giver or a taker?

I really don’t know.

I like to think the former,

although oftentimes,

I just want to be left alone.

What I do know though

is that I am stifled and empty

and yet you want more.

I am not what you need

and for our son alone

together we can’t stay.

Sometimes an empty bed,

though lonely and quiet,

is best for everyone.

MdG 20-5-2010