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  • Understanding

    Understanding
    Latoya Evans
    January 27, 2015

    Speaking words to you have become a chore,
    I just can’t do it anymore.
    You transform depth and wholeness into a phantom;
    an apparition, without name and form -
    I become forlorn
    In me is the capacity to construct words into reality
    Give an idea life or new life to an old idea that can be reborn
    With you abortion seems like the only action to take
    Then you and I can resume our titles as lovers, and mates
    This weariness of words is too heavy to bare
    to speak words to you in a room
    when only the walls will hear, fills me with despair.
    It seems unending, unyielding
    It is frustrating, angering
    Please let’s just stop I want to go to the refuge of my expanded mind that I call home
    And then you text me on the phone.
    Another round of not understanding, I want a Knock Out
    Maybe some sense will get in then, but its wishful thinking
    I know this now.
    I know how?
    Why three long years of the same thing,
    Who is wrong?
    Who is right?
    Who’s not listening?
    I don’t want to listen anymore
    I don’t want you to listen to me
    What I want, what I really want is a little bit of understanding!
    Listening is throwing a thin blanket on a sleeping child; in a cold room,
    On account of a window being open.
    Understanding is closing the window before the child goes in the room to rest
    It’s knowing with the aid of life experiences and a bit of communion.
    You can’t commune, your way shows you there are no equal…to you
    You are in the gift, the wrapping paper, the receipt, and the salesperson.
    Another sequel to be installed in the infamous play of us,
    So hard to discuss.
    How can someone be right and wrong at the same time?
    Maybe my understanding is erroneous?
    Maybe he’s been right all this time?
    Maybe I’m the reason this relationship has turned itself and devoured the occupants?
    Oh, how Carnivorous!
    But he knows all, He does not have to question.
    He stands so firm, sessile even.
    He only moves in unison with me in the evening…in the dark.
    You’d go blind trying to find the spark.
    Passionless, action less he’s all talk nothing else
    His heart; he put in is head, and he nailed his brain to shelf
    I know that’s not where it really is
    But you’d think so if you even saw us kiss
    Like two opposing magnets joined together forcefully trying to be together.
    Be together…never.
    All the work, all the reading, all the planning
    All for naught because two people could not understand, understanding.
    It all seems so demanding
    Notwithstanding
    Arrogant and Belligerent
    But I have an idea,
    I know he will not want to hear but here it goes anyway:
    Let’s play
    Let’s have a play date where we can just enjoy one another
    No titles, no mate, no lover just you and I
    Laughing, joking, smiling
    Winning prizes, no disguises, no fronts
    No pick me up, just fun
    We can hide, glide, and slide in the park
    We can play Red Light, Green Light, but you have to stand on the mark
    We can race, we can skate
    We can have child-like glee reflective of a time when it was ok to be you and
    It was okay to be me.
    Let's just be...
    Happy.
    Happy like a baby that just learned to independently stand
    Because happiness we both know and we both understand.



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