The Beginning

It starts with little things:
A shout in a conversation,
A caress shrugged off,
A turning away in sleep,
Or a small promise
One forgot to keep.

It starts small:
A forgotten holiday,
Or a hug once a day,
A letter never written,
Or a word one needed to say.
A refusal to touch
After all,
Speaks more than words
By not sleeping much.

It starts quietly:
No great feeling of loss,
Just a tingling warning,
A squinting of the eye,
The littlest lie,
And then there is
Destiny’s pulling back,
As it starts to die.

Never Again

I keep giving of love and remain alone;
Either awake at night or with fears.
I learnt much of pain; it comes now by rote
And has quite lost all its share of tears.

The love I give is all consuming.
It comes from within a unique need.
If I am willing to be consumed myself,
How in hell does it classify as greed?

The words I write now have been written.
The pain I am in has been felt.
It feels like my men are on strange repeat.
The cards each deals have been dealt.

The love I have just needs to be seen;
But those I love choose others over me;
And I can’t keep giving up myself –
I must have an end to hope’s tragedy.

I think of love as forever and it hurts.
Each time it brings with it the freshest pain.
As each time my gifts and heart shatter,
I lie to myself and say never ever again.

Your Promises

All of your promises have a shelf life.
There is no chance any of them shall stick.
You speak them to merely stop present strife;
Once that is done, their purpose seeks death quick.

Your promises are very lightly made.
You do not think of them as forever.
They are fake light that only causes shade,
Without the wherewithal to endeavour.

I wish you understood what vows must be;
They are the parents of hope and trust;
Your mind can’t grasp what it cannot see;
And all we end up with is useless dust.

I know this now and all my hope lies dead;
There is nothing now to be heard or said.