Fixing This Dysfunction

Fixing this dysfunction
Requires more
Than a phone call
Or a simple touch
Meant to say
“I’m sorry.”

I’m not sure
It’s even possible
After years
Of being shut-down
Inside
Any affection
Dying
Each time
I have to see you
Or hear the phone ring
In your haphazard attempts to fix
What was

I don’t think
You yet realize
That what was
Still exists somewhere in my heart
It remembers
Each tragedy
Spun from the fabric that unraveled

Leaving strands
Scattered across
A floor now filled
With a mixture of cluttered debris
And stain-free spots
Visible amongst the chaos of leftover scripts
That weren’t meant to be written
At all

We Were Never Too Good To Dance

You once told me
That I was too good for you
Back when it was
Just another dinner
And I wanted to make up my own mind

But truth has a funny way
Of already knowing
What will transpire
If not now
Eventually
Becoming a less than opaque
Reality
Almost the way a sunrise
Begins to show us
What we weren’t sure
Existed in the night

So I told myself that I wasn’t
That you were somehow wrong
That we were okay to dance
Despite the ex who wanted revenge
And the kids that turned out okay
And you, who always felt inadequate
For being less than who they thought you were
And the rebel inside, who needed to be rescued
By someone just learning how to grow-up

You were right
But I have no regrets
That it turned into more
Than just another dinner
Or that the music we danced to
Has now evaporated
Somewhere between
A coastal breeze
And a mountain
Whose climb
Was worth
Every breath