Tonight

I was going to share a poem tonight - I wrote it about how much you hurt me. Then I knew our relationships was over, because I no longer trusted you enough to let you see my words. I wish that we could fly back to a time when I longed for your embraces, when your laughter ignited my own, when I basked in your presence. Now we sit across from the table in silence. Sometimes you chatter and I grit my teeth, forcing myself not to yell in order to releive myself from the sound of your voice. Tonight, tonight what - don't I still need you, in a way so much more fleeting than the way you need me? Tomorrow, will we really go our separate ways? Each time you break me, you break me a little more. Is tonight then, the moment when the crystalline peices will shatter? Shall I pick myself up in my translucence, trying to dance in a way that captures the light? But I have become black and absorbent, like the night's wind. If only I could have escaped by one hour - but no, I had made my promises. Already, I feel the slight sensation of wanting to know that you love me, but I still remember the morning, when I was six, when you told me I was no longer your sugarplum, I was no longer sweet - and you kept your promise. You never called me that again. You told me you would love me unconditionally, but I know that you lied. I am sick of accusing you; the Inquisition was stopped for a reason. So go, live in your ignorance, but first strike the chains that lie between us.