I let anyone in my heart and then
begin to die a little that day
to the sweetness of a kind
voice capturing my tiny tears.
For me love comes faster than
it goes, but go it will and I
will be left with the sense that
all the bad is my fault.
Men have a way with making
it seem as if the simple
art of being a women is
enough to turn heart to stone.
And, women have a strange way
of making everything we say
into a gigantic cycle of needless
arguments and walking away.
We make excuses for
why it is okay to treat
each other as if emotions
and pain do not exist.
To rip into a person as
if we can just walk away
and then act as if nothing
at all harmful has occurred.
I could question the mind set
in which we derive this sense
of being able to walk in
circles of profound lack of care.
What would the point of all this
be, sitting and finding the answer
is: I let you in and slowly begin
to die a little that day, until no more.
Light follows the Darkest of nights

Cat 2005