This time I am really going.
I am really going this time.
Not like last time
Where I postponed and
Hemmed and hawed.
Or I remembered some
Project to finish.
Walking on eggshells after
The amicable divorce
Staying made the eventual
Loss bearable
But I thought little of what
It meant to you.
Getting old alone is not
Easy to bear
Holding on less a
Matter of grip
Than of schedules and
Rehearsed rhymes.
Emotional syntax not
Thought about.
Thirty years goes by
In a flash
When you hid away
Daily despair.
At first you want to
Talk about it
And then you tire of
The words
And you forgive each
Other again
Because forgiveness
Comes easy
When you don’t feel
The fault.
No one to blame, no
One harmed.
But enough is someone
Else’s call
Not yours you swore
Off responsibility
Long ago after that
Night of yelling
The brutal night you
Left home.
But you would return;
I moved over.
Simply demanding the
Bed space.
Silence among the stars
Just fine;
A neutral corner agreed
Upon compromise.
It has been too long of
This purgatory.
It has not been hell
Just not heaven.
And I am growing old
With pain
And it’s not easy growing
Painfully old
So, this time I mean
Really to go.
What do you mean
Don’t go?
We only have each
Other snores.
Who else would have
Us now?
Sometimes love happens
Other times
Love just means staying
Silently home.