This was inspired by a conversation I had with a friend, who was struggling to understand why her marriage of thirty years had ended.
Where have you gone? I really don’t know
you are here with me but I’m so alone
failing to hear you when you speak
uninterested with any point or purpose.
When did our future become our past?
Is the past where we are destined to live?
the rut we fell into, suffocates our being
love is unable to breathe, choking us both.
Passion replaced by never-ending silences
happiness and joy, no longer desired
intimacy, a distant memory: never craved
we share only this pointless existence.
We shoulder blame for not being as one
aimlessly adrift, existing, not living
either unable or unwilling to change
the option to part is the option to live.