You Said
I wanted to show an elegant sense of balance and poesy
But what I brought instead was a drought of talent;
You, my jury outside my own understanding,
Said "Bravo!" and then you turned away.
Though from your lips, it felt like an insult,
As if this were some sort of game we played.
Well, let me tell you, my instinct was to run,
For the embarrassment was too much, too tactile,
But can we not agree that the opposite of instinct
Is nothing more than a test of our will?
I thought about kissing you, of distracting you
From this garbage world.
However, this fight was not for the faint-hearted,
Nor would it ever be. In fact, nothing could
Bring peace outside of a sense of belonging
In a milieu that offered no such solace.
"Oh well," said, breaking the silence like a tree
Breaks the monotony of a sandy beach,
"At least there's no one to witness this masquerade."