Okay, Go ahead; Ask me what I think;
but at the same time, be positively sure
the truth is what you're looking for-
I'm not one to pad the punch, to make
the impact less painful; And I'm not going
to pat you on the back and pretend all is
well and right, when we both know it isn't.

I've been viewing the world through a prism, a colored image; And I'm guilty of allowing your
eyes to become clouded over along with mine; It
was I that called you to my side, urged you to take
a peek, at the beauty I needed to share. Oh, it was
there all right; That part of it was never a farce-
The blue skies, warm sunshine, fields of brightly
painted flowers, knee-high clover and butterflies
that seemingly floated with a mystic magic-
Oh yes it was there; There and as real as life
itself. We know it was. We touched it, felt it,
smelled it, and we longed for it so terribly, we
even tasted it.

Where the lie comes in, is when we both thought;
Believed that it would last forever. It would continue
throughout our lifetime. There would never be an end;
A finalization. Today the skies are still blue and the
flowers still grow in the fields, the sunshine warms again
in the Spring and Summer months, but then we were under
the canopy that even on the coldest Winter day, we could
imagine the frost away. It was the simplest of tasks.
Dreaming; Wishing; Imagining; Believing; They were all
real; And we held the key to unlock their wonders. It was
a golden present, that we could insert anytime we wanted.
So we did, often mindlessly to what we are truly creating
within us.

You smile; I can see it on your face and in your eyes; You
also know and feel pangs of guilt. The deep heaviness that
we have bred; It's that anvil of greed hanging around our necks;
It's weighted us down for so many years we have grown accustomed
to it; Only when we are together do we recognize it's accountabilities.
It's as though we've been tattooed with invisible ink; Only we know
it's there, but we feel the need to make sure the rest of the universe
acknowledges it. Bone deep scars that can't be seen, but the pains
of open wounds are fresh.

The real truth to the matter is, we both can see it in the other's
eyes; We can taste it still today like powdered sugar doughnuts; That
sickly sweetness to the point of bitterness, but yet, we just have to bite
another one to be sure we like them. Are we really that humanly flawed?
Why can't we just forget it and walk away; Erase it from our memory; Let
it rest in the shade of wisdom and quit exhuming it for re-examination
time after endless time?

What? I heard you mumbling and groaning under your breath; Don't look
at me like that! You know as well as I do, the next time we meet here, it
will be you holding this pen firmly between your fingers. Writing just like
I am today. We've hidden this pen from ourselves so many times through
the years it sends us postcards on holidays. It's our addiction, and we are
addicted to the fantasies it allows. Okay! Okay! Take it! You just couldn't
stand it anymore, could you? You had to feel it's weight; it's sleek and slender
body in your hands one more time, huh? I know...me too. Don't that feel great?

© Lisa Hilbers
4/24/05