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i moved where my heart had drifted off to long before. i live on a hill of hundred acres, where my dreams have merged with the view. it is quiet from machine noises yet loud with sounds of horses, dogs, cats chickens and ducks. nature is the true artist in resident and i am just her apprentice who often gets lost in her gaze. once and a while i travel back to cities and foreign places to put into photographs what i have learned, yet always, part of my heart is left on the hill..

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

charade

i swallow my words and feel the lump in my throat till my heart aches just to spare you from pain. i drive out of the way so that you will not be caught like a deer in the headlights. i bury my pride so that you can roar like a lion, a lying lion.

i sit in his chair and tell him i want you to hurt, why do i want you to hurt i ask. he responds by saying you don't, so i say i want him to feel and he says he is incapable of feeling..i say not good enough. I say i am tired of him, tired of talking about him. he tells me about all the women who sit in this chair who have a someone like you. that you are nothing special, have nothing to offer just in ability to take, he is mediocre at best, a charade of a man.

i say i don't want to talk about him, i ask, do i hate him, he says you are angry, i say i don't want to be angry he says you have the right to be..

3 comments:

in another lifetime said...

Maybe one day, when a single experience is buried under so many others that life lays down, the anger won't be there anymore....?

Claire said...

maybe the anger is the first step in healing...

Passionate About Baking said...

HUGS Nadia...