A Forest.

Dealing with separation and the end of a marriage.

I can't tell if I love you.

 

The days and months between the time “us” and the time “now”,

Are akin to the physical distance we now share,

But nothing to the emotional chasm we overlook.

 

I cannot see you in this forest called "our love".

The trees are bare. The bark is grey. It flakes.

There is no life here, no birdsong. No grass.

 

No care has been paid to this place for longer than I care to admit.

I wander the paths which I believed once so well defined, now covered in decay.

The sun can’t reach here, the gloom pervades,

How apt your image in my mind does fade.

 

I miss my dream of you. Its so long gone. The man you are in my mind,

Is nothing like the boy whom you've become.

 

I spent my days seeking glimpses of you.

Sometimes you appeared as a spectre, but in your heart you were a stranger.

I could no longer see myself in your eyes,

They were black.

 

In my own face I can see the passage of this time,

This time I have somehow survived thusfar.

You cannot help yourself. You continue to kill me with your empty words.

 

Tiny hammers taken to the shards of my heart you left behind.

Strewn about as litter, in the way, to be removed.

Your actions deal the blows your words promise will never come.

 

The trees are every day we spent together.

Fifteen years of memory stood tall but not proud.

I am not proud.

You do not feel.

The shame would be too great.

 

Could you know how much harm you do, with every lie you make and kiss you take?

 

I begin to see. You are not here.

The Forest and I are alone.

We have been for longer than I can accept.