“I love you.”

These are the words that so easily fly
From the lips of the lover, the poet, and I.
And have, through the ages,
Forged hope out of strife.
In kinship, in courtship,
Through husband and wife.

In play script and novel,
In sonnet and song,
Legend and folklore,
Tree trunk and poem.
The laughter, the smiles,
The visions of joy,
To be touched by a phrase
That is precious to God!


What did you mean
When you first spoke the words?
I think I remember that you said them first…
I think I remember...


Oh life, to pound like waves on the rocks,
To pit your ways against our dreams.
Your relentless alarm to stir us up,
To shake us from our playful sleep.

Once, I dreamed that you could be mine.
Was I stoned? Was I imagining?
Once, I thought that love could last.
Was I a fool to believe?

Wistfully,
I have yearned to share my labors,
My strengths, my talents,
My skills, my arts.
Working less for the token reward,
More for a mate, a lifetime partner,
More for a smile, a tender touch,
A reassuring whisper in the dark.

I know it wasn’t your job to fix my world,
Your hands too full with your own needs.
I was cruel to pull you in
To my shaky bit of insecurity.

Of health and welfare, oh, to second guess,
It’s a bigger mess that I have made.
The crumbling ruins of a bombed out life;
Truth be told, I was the wounded one,
Staggering into your benevolent gaze.

Was I dim-witted to confess,
My life was such an utter mess?
Was I foolish to convey,
That I didn’t ever want to be hurt that way,
Again?

Here is where that faraway look
First reflected that puzzled part of you.
Our mutual discomfort
Swelling like a field of thistles
After a summer storm.
I hear your words, your chiding voice,
Your angelic tone in discord.
In love there is no turning back,
In love there is no starting over.

Why does the world seem so full of takers;
Un-giving and unforgiving?
Why do I face a place
Where people dare not share
The passion of caring?
I seem to be surrounded by
Humans who can
So easily make their unreasonable demands,
Ever endeavoring to leverage
Their own narcissistic tendencies,
While finding it impossible to understand
The concepts of compromise and empathy!
Why are so many hearts so unfeeling?

Weren’t you going to save me?

Forgive me.
I am ashamed for even having
Conceived of the question.

I have loved so hard,
So many times.

I cannot help but believe
That somewhere, sometimes love
Is simply meant to be!
I know, in the beginning
I believed in you and you in me.

From those first days
I sought to exchange:
Loving glances,
Kind words,
Attentive listening,
Gentle touching,
Soft stroking,
Firm hugs,
And deep, meaningful kisses.

The stoking of the fires of passion.
Was my way of indicating
That I was willing to go the distance.

You do realize that
I have savored every smile
You ever smiled,
Each enchanting peal of laughter.
I have treasured your companionship,
The warmth of your body next to mine.
At least I did when these things were offered,
Once upon a time.

Did you not understand your own generosity?
Those were, and will forever be,
The fondest of my memories!

I tell people,
“The only constant is change.”
These are my survival words,
My cry in the wilderness.
Sometimes I even suggest that the scraps
Dropped from the table
Are sufficient to sustain me.

I am really licking my wounds.

Stop! I do not need your sympathy,
I don’t want to hear, “I’m sorry.”
It’s not your fault. Your love was my desire!
Damn my expectations!
Please forgive me for not pretending to be
Unaffected by your change of heart!

I do know, now, that I must allow it to be
What it is. I have no other recourse.

Today it seems to come down to
What I don’t have to give
To you
Or anyone else, I suppose.

Once I could offer the future.
As I grow older there is less and less of that.
Once I could offer myself as a running mate.
But my pace has been cut in half.
Once I could offer myself as provider,
But my resources have dwindled to few.
Once I could offer babies and the sport of sex…

“Didn’t I tell you how much I loved you?”

I could succumb to despair, I guess,
And yet, I feel more like a great river
Forever running its tortured course.
I have what I need to exist.
I am who I am and I am very close
To being satisfied with this.

I do not want to be angry,
I do not want to be anyone’s enemy.
But now you’re saying
Maybe we should be friends,
Well baby, that’s a whole different thing!

Friends are familiar people,
Companions, tried and true .
Their bond to stand the test of time,
The special and the few.
They are always there when you need them,
And you’re always there when they need you!

But as ‘just a friend’... ha!
I have never been 'always' anything!
And that’s always been the case.
I’ll appear as if from nowhere,
My life a dark and distant place.

No, you’ll never hear my fond farewells.
I won’t say how long I’ll stay.
And if you should ever be my friend,
My dear, expect it to end that way!


Michael S. True
1-5-05 last edit 1-19-14