Pieces lost in transit

March 29, 2017

Silently, I watch the man, the woman, the soul I love fight over what they should be.  Ripping up, gluing themselves back together, painting over the past; building someone new.  I fell in love with her and I’m learning to love him.  As I watch my world explode into pieces; I scramble on the floor, picking up all that has been left behind.
You are queer society tells me.  I’m just in love and can’t leave him to do it all by himself I want to tell them all.  I want to scream, pound my fists on the floor and throw a tantrum.  Because this, honestly, is not what I had planned.
You’ve inspired to write two times in a year.  First, when we met; I lay on paper the look of your smile, the smell of your arms around me, holding me tight all through the night. And now, I find myself coloring the page, hands running on keys; hoping this isn’t the end.
All we do is talk, talk about how we feel, how it’s going to be.  Some things, we don’t say.  Some things we just can’t stay.  Those are the things keeping me up at night, the things I guess you dream about when I see your face close-up during the night.
What we can’t say is that we’re doomed.
What we can’t say is that you finding yourself is the reason why I am suddenly so lost.
What we can’t say is that I fell in love with her, not him.
What I don’t say is that I can feel your disgust when you touch me.
What you can’t say is that when you look at me you feel love and attachment, while desire and passion have long ago walked out the door.
What we don’t say is that you would rather sleep alone than scoop me.
What we can’t say is that we lost some pieces of our story, our love, in transit.
And what I can’t say is that I really miss you and I don’t know who to call.
In transition of finding yourself, you left me behind.

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