There are things that you need to know that I will never be able to tell you. There are things that need to be done that I know you will never do. There are decisions that need to made that will go ignored until it is too late. It is late now. You are late and so am I. And still we do not arrive together. I lay in one corner while you sit in another and the distance is too great for us to even see each other. Am I alone then?
The many factors of loneliness. I cry that I am lonely but remain because I am not. I remain because it is not solely my decision because it does not affect only me. When my fingers stumble across silver and my skin craves seperation, I see other hands above mine. Smaller hands. Softer hands. Purer hands. Three pairs of tiny hands that I have held in happiness, sadness, cluelessness but always in love. Hands that have clung to me when time and space tried to pull me away. Hands that have absorbed tears, cradled laughter and smothered anger. Hands that attached to arms to shoulders to necks and torsos that caved 3 big hearts that sometimes beat only for me. And a little higher up, coyish grins that grow wider when words of me tumble from them. Three pairs of tiny hands, three big hearts, three incredible persons and one mediocre me.
I look at you and see you not seeing me and I want to disappear. But then I look at them and see me in their eyes and see them in my heart and I know that I have to stay. You are not worth the nights I have laid sobbing quietly into empty beds and soiled carpets. But they, my three hearts, are worth the days that I have made myself get up again.
I cannot find the foolishness to wake up for you in the mornings. I cannot find the evidence to wake up for myself in the morning. But I can find the love and appreciation and want to wake up each day for them. You give me words like love and future wirh such indifference and nonchalance and I resign and nod politely. They give me words like love and forever with such ferocity and determination and truth and I beam and inhale each moment, refusing to breath it out because if I lose it I may not be able to
pick myself up off one of those tear streaked floors one day.
So stay in your impartial corner and stay hidden behind your shadows of oblivion. My corner is much better with its three tiny pairs of hands and three big hearts beating out rhythms of love.
The things I need to tell you you will never know because you could never possibly feel them. The things that you need to do will never be done becuase you are incapable of doing them. The decision that I needed to make I have made. And looking at the three warriors in my corner, I am confident that I made the right one. I don't want or need you in my corner anymore. There is no room for you anyway.
