The Truth Is

I joined a ‘free write’ group on Facebook. I think Fiona sent me the invitation months ago but as with my Small Female Skull updates; I haven’t really paid it much mind. I don’t think I have writers block as much as I have refused to write (again). In any case, I was distracted today and this is what I whipped up as I waited for my laptop to power up:

In consecutive fleeting moments, you made me feel like I am
You'd hold me and I would be an extension of your arm
You’d look at me affixed with your iris. I help you focus
You’d frown and as I used my fingers to wipe away worry lines from your forehead, you’d fold into me as appreciative as a warm coat on a cold winter’s night

I would often confuse your need for me with your need, for me.
I‘d look at you and see you want me but not understand the difference
I’d hear you call out for me and not feel the distinction in your tone
I have watched you love me and seen the love in your eyes. Lovely as it is, I hear you but i don’t listen
And so, I sit. With you now trying to reconcile where I got it so wrong

You make little or no sense
Your lips are moving
Your eyes are twitching
Your lips curling around your uncomfortable explanation
Your hands gesticulating

You don’t believe you either.