Forgive me lost Angie

For all the words that disconcerted

Eyes narrowed

Brows furrowed

And gazes callously averted

It is what it is

We where what we were

Although you defer

And I am what I was but slightly different

Less independent

A better man, and yet strangely a simple remnant

Of the promise I once possessed

Hoisted upon my spiritual betterment

A used needle cleaned of burrs

And yes

I remember what it meant to be alerted

Weekends you found yourself deserted,

My responsibilities skirted and forgotten about

Alerted to worries, obstacles, the barnacles

That clung to the respective hulls of our sinking boat

But I am older

And I am no longer the shoulder you can use

To scratch upon.

And I can no longer fuel your deception or my

Anxiety attacks

I can no longer feel for your primal fears

When I have lifted the invisible primate from my back

And moved on while you are still here

Waiting for my apology.

©2010  j. k. bradford