I’m so torn, I want you,
I don’t want you,
I want only you to know
I want you in my life.
The ‘don’t’ is so ridiculously
inaccurate when I look at rain-soaked
windows, and sleet lain streets
only to imagine being with you,
in any climate,
being happy and content,
if only
to live inside your eyes.
I wake every morning,
slats open to feed the daylight,
and all I do is look again,
into the physical silence
of a yearn for words,
of an anything
that allows me to imagine,
I might be
nearer your mind
then the shadows
around me,
no longer
speaking
to me.
I tell myself to stop,
quit the insanity
of love,
of love,
of understanding
love.
© Scott F Savage 4/2020
apersonaljourney - stories of love 