"Writers write, and they write, and they go on writing long after wisdom and even common sense have told them to quit. There are always plenty of reasons--good, compelling reasons, too--for quitting, or for not writing
very much or very seriously. (Writing is trouble, make no mistake, for everyone involved, and who needs trouble?) But once in a great while lightning strikes, and occasionally it strikes early in the writer's life. Sometimes it comes later, after years of work. And sometimes, most often of course, it never happens at all...it happens, lightning, or it doesn't happen. But it will never, never happen to those who don't work hard at it and who don't consider the act of writing as very nearly the most important thing in their lives, right up there next to breath, and food, and shelter, and love, and God."
 
Raymond Carver

The End

Sad to say

but our union has come to a pass

At a point we were linked like no other

Joined, one

But something seemingly cosmic

changed the feeling

We lost our rhythm

Fell out of sync

Danced to entirely different beats

Some otherworldly thing

changed our space, our time

Though the love remains

All that should hold it together

unraveled

And we began to diverge....

Me

Left feeling the cold

While you were embraced with warmth

Emotions expressed

You say you do

But your actions fail to show that

you understand or know

Where I reside is a place

you can't seem to get to

I've given you directions

but you still end up lost

The sad part is that

you fail to see it

Maybe when you do

A great shift in thought, feeling,

perspective - a realization

will occur

And at that point

You will see not

only where I went wrong

But where you went wrong

where we both went wrong

And you should be able to move on

Hopefully wiser

Having learned a great lesson

about how to love

© 2008 Markell D. Williams

Markell@picturesandframesmagazine.com

Lost In You

An unknown

A stranger

A new being

that I didn't recognize

something you wished you'd left on the shelf

instead of bringing home with you

This foreigner came in and

changed everything

What I used to be

What I used to do

was usurped

forgotten

discarded

The old me became this new being

And I thought nothing of it in the

beginning

I made excuses for you and your

behavior, the things you said, and

the things you did

It was okay

I thought it was me

I was so lost in you

that I lost me

I eventually saw you, me, us

the situation for all that it

was worth (and not worth)

And I, eventually, grew

tired

I was exhausted from giving so much

And nothing being rightfully reciprocated

I was disgusted

Because I bent over backwards

Was hanging out on a limb

Living on the edge

And it seemed you didn't appreciate it

So the good thoughts began to lessen

I dreaded your calls

I was disgusted with you

But I was more so disgusted

with myself for allowing

this to fester

I was so lost in you

That I forgot who I was

So I had to reclaim what

was rightfully mine

to get back to me

I had to let go

I had to embark on a new personal

journey

to find me again

I had to end it with you

So that I could

start anew with me

© 2008 Markell D. Williams

Markell@picturesandframesmagazine.com