The Bow

 

I spend so much of my day, 

  cleaning up your messes, 

 attacked with a shroud of volcanic eruptions. 

What peace I harness, imminently swept away 

  by the hurricanes that you blow in. 

My patience is slapped across a crying face. 

My voice echos in low screams you scathe over. 

I had to pull back, 

 into myself...dear Force that can not be reckoned with. 

If you are determined to kill the love, 

  I bow gracefully and let you. 

The innuendos and negs stack, 

  day 

    after day, 

         after day. 

and I had stood my ground, 

  screamed my truth through interruptions and shutdown. 

You would not hear. 

You beckon over and over 

    "I love you"

but I keep wondering 

where is the love here,

Anymore, 

Should you love me? 

I wear the mask you have painted me with. 

  I give in to what you wish to choose.

I bow. 

It is the death for four years of which  I warned you about; 

 But you...

      didn't heed and instead raged against me, 

Chains a manipulation game of love bombs and puppeteering. 

I wanted to believe you; to believe we had it in us... 

(and I did, practice the deepest faith I ever have before)

and as I stood my ground, and watch the titles turn...

you would make your choices. 

Had it been me, the promises you made, 

Then our love, My Love, 

Might never have burned. 

I bow amongst the ash you deem your castle- 

  so disillusioned still, 

The terms scale your eyes. 

My heart held on for you....so lucky had you been, for such a moment in time. 

But I watched you get the oil can, 

  Look me in the eye, 

  pour and set aflame, with no love behind the black portholes in your mind. 

I watched you, 

  looking at me. 

 enjoying it. 

before tomorrow when you would cry.