Halfway Across The Room

Halfway across the room

feels like halfway around the world.

I should feel joy and bliss

after fighting like that

and you deciding to stay for that one more kiss.

So now we sit in silence,

my pen screaming as it scratches the page.

Why am I filled with such sadness?

Heartache, fear and rage?

What has happened has happened,

it can’t be undone.

But why do I feel as if,

at any moment,

you’ll just run?

Perhaps that’s the issue?

is that what I want?

But I know that if you do,

my heart you would haunt.

Something has died,

way deep inside.

I want to just hide

but to live in such fear I can’t abide.

Halfway across the room,

not a word do we speak.

What happended to my beacon of light?

He’s dimmed his light so bleak.

Why so much silence?

Why the long face?

Why don’t you see that

I long for your embrace?

Do I disgust you?

Or is that you to me?

What the fuck just happened?

Why can’t I see?

See the dysfunction,

the hope and the lies?

Feel the hurt stab

like a needle between the eyes.

Who cares if you’re crying?

This is all for the best.

I join in the pain

and know I’ve failed my own test.

Now thousands of miles

seem to squeeze in between us,

though you’re halfway across the room

without so much as a fuss.

Inside I’m longing

for you to read my damn mind.

But I know it’s impossible.

No telepathic connection can I find.

I’ll sit here in silence then

try to pretend

like our home feels half empty

and pray this isn’t the end.

Could it be true

that the love that I feel

is again stripped away from me

not mine, not real?

Will you leave my life

as fast as you came in?

Or will true love fight for us,

deafeat heartache and win?

Now you lay down to go to sleep

I look to see your face.

And there he is,

the man I love...

my beacon of light and grace.

You sleep so soundly,

you seem peaceful, serene.

I wonder what’s inside your head.

I wonder what your dream?

I think to myself, when he wakes,

Do I read to him the tribulations of my thoughts?

Or do I keep it to myself,

hold it in with my stomach in knots?

I try to breathe,

try not to cry.

Try to ponder my fears

and the infinite question, why?

Damn, I wish I had wings to fly...

the thousands of miles across the room.