Saturday, February 20, 2010

At Odds

I’m scared
scared that
the past three decades
will turn into an eternity
words never spoken
hearts left shattered, broken
too many hurdles
I’m tired of jumping
my legs are dead
my heart still beats
longing for
an antiquated, simple life
enveloped with sincerity
sealed with a kiss
absent of “he said,” “you lied”
written or recorded
at this point it’s pointless
why point fingers?
chipping at the paint
the canvas, never bare
you, me
on opposite sides
you’d meet me halfway.