This morning with you

You talk about things you know nothing of.

Criticize what I do and the way that I love.

And I am frustrated by every word that comes out of you

because I want to believe them; I want them to be true.

You can’t know how I tried to be a good wife.

How, for years, I tried to give him a perfect life.

You only hear what time has made me become:

an empty shell, all hollow and numb.

I wish you could have seen me at my best

when I wasn’t worn down, jaded and stressed,

when I cooked like an expert and kept the house clean,

when the things that I said weren’t so bitter and mean.

This morning, my hands were cold

and you let me lay them on your warm skin.

You looked into my eyes.

It was without sin.

I wish you could somehow know

the person I am inside.

I wish I could show you

the person I’ve grown to hide.


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