thewaitingone

I don't hate you.
I've been told it would be okay if I did.
I don't have the energy,
will, desire.
I don't have the hate.
I have sorrow.
I have confusion.
I have loss.
You don't wake me up at night anymore.
Not as much.
You visit my dreams now and then.
I've seen you in the corner of my eye.
You half-smile at me.
You don't try to talk or touch me anymore.
I guess you know.
At least your dream self knows.
No hate,No indifference.
Avoidance.
Looking at the sun will blind me.
I know it's there.
I just don't look to it anymore.