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WHISPER
It’s the way you lock all the doors in the house, even when you know I’m there. The way you will open the windows of the room you retreat to, to let the jarring gears of overladen highway trucks in, yet with the creak of those old worn hinges, and the turn of that old rusty knob, you shut me out. Completely.
It’s the way you pause ever so slightly, as your thinly veiled irritation slips out in the contempt that forms on your lips. You ponder my uselessness for the longest of seconds, and with audibly resigned sigh, you lift the item off the top shelf, a favour to me; and quickly disappear before I can ask you for anything else. I do the rest myself.
Its the way you don’t bother to turn around, when I try to talk with you. The way you vaguely nod or grunt, in response to the comment I carefully thought about and put out in the way I thought you could understand best. It’s the way, you are unmoved, by anything. Unmoved by my thoughts. Unmoved by my feelings. Unmoved by me.
It’s the way you barely look up when I enter a room in the ‘look’, that I spent hours putting together. It’s the way you barely look up when I enter a room. You know my secret: that being unacknowledged and ignored is a slow and twisting death for me. You revel in it.
It’s the way you tear into me with ease, as simple as breathing in and out. Breathe in, shout. Breathe out, yell. Its the way you twist the logic, change the subject, make it about you, deflect, dismiss, deny…when all I asked you was, “Why?”
It’s the way you seem to lack joy in me; my womanhood. As if, it isn’t there. To be pursued is one of the secret thrills of being a woman. It’s a thrill I have yet to know. I long to be drunk on that feeling, 100% over proof undiluted, undistilled Passion. I settle for reminding you of what we have been missing. I shouldn’t have to. It’s been a long time. I will wait. I have to. I’m tired of running. Tired of running toward you, hoping you will see me.
For now, I whisper my thoughts to the wind, the ever -attentive listener. Only she knows, the silent screams of my heart.
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I hear you.
ReplyOh my love. I feel you and feel FOR you. I am going through it.
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