For a word from him
This angel, or not,
I just met him
In a way so unconventional
He owns this charity, or so he says,
I own nothing: my sorrows maybe.
He gets the better of it
He knows my weakness
This attitude that just can’t take it when others suffer
Not once, giving a thought about how I feel.
He is a dreamer, he dreams on, and on
He has this hunger to succeed, but like me, he is held back by forces behind this veil.
He wants me.
I have another.
He placates, cajoles, astounds.
Deliberately making me guilty,
Of a sin I never committed.
Just this, he is a man in love, or shall we say lust?
He wants me.
He thinks I think he can’t
I know he can, I just can’t understand.
He lets go.
I want to let him go: but not in this sad state.
Not once does he look back: he never could.
He is angry at me.
I can read it in his stance, in his shouty voice, in his demeanor.
I can taste it in his words, in his pleading, in his spite.
I can smell it in his choice of words, in his silence, in his evasiveness.
I slowly watch him go.
Not once does he look back.
Now I know I have lost.
The lack of communication: the all day texts, late night calls, constant emails
I have lost him.
Maybe for the better
For what he wants is what I gave out