It seems there is no escaping,
from the tenacity of my being.
That caught me from child's grasp,
to wake from dreaming with a gasp.
I know who I am;
I see clearly,
everything before me.
And haunting memories hang over your head,
and I am unforgiving.
But 'tis a wonderful dream,
to sit quietly underneath the melancholy of my being.
And watch from afar the actions of pretending.
That I could ever learn how to love,
your unspoken guilt.
And try to understand exactly how
you felt.
When you hurt and broke everything I had to give,
and now I know you.
That broken smile you pieced back together in time,
that ignorance that I once claimed was mine.
Has been lifted,
and since been replaced.
With your bruised and cracked face,
and I am unforgiving.
