There is an empty place in my soul
Where you once used to live
You have left there long since
As there was no more of me to give
You visit my mind often
Unbeknown to you
You come and go when needed
Until I’m ready to say adieu
I’m trying to comprehend
Where it went so wrong
I know you never understood
Why you’re so headstrong
Independence is worked for
Fierce and won by the brave
Not necessarily to settle a score
And not to enslave
It is achieved so you are not weak
The monsters cannot win
Perhaps that was the problem
To explain, how could I begin
When I found you drowning
Staying afloat under abundant pain
Fending off enemies in your mind
Although always in vain
No one was good enough
To withstand your allegations
Even offering you love
They fell short of your expectations
Love is an understanding
Not a thing in a box
To be discarded so thoughtlessly
Like a pair of socks
It takes work and communication
On more than one level
Things are not always straight
Sometimes they are bevel
Life is not black and white
There is plenty of grey
To smooth the edges
Of a bruised individual with plenty to say
A different concept for you
Difficult to sustain
Although we did try
Until it became a strain
The enemies in your mind are still there
Acknowledgement makes them stronger
If you would realize they don’t exist
You will be tilting at windmills no longer
Christine Bolton
Word of the Day Challenge: Abundant
Definition of Tilting at Windmills
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