Blind
You close your eyes and count to three,
You open them and find me,
Disappointed by what you see,
You scoff off angrily.
So I wait for you to return, and forgiveness is given,
The Pinnacle of trust, our own safe haven.
We laugh, and smile,
And talk for a while,
About the stones in every mile,
The stories of our inner child.
Again,
You close your eyes and count to three,
You open them and find me,
Disappointed by what you see,
You scoff off angrily.
So I wait for you to return, and forgiveness is given,
The Pinnacle of trust, our own safe haven.
It’s the sixth time this happened, so what do I do?
Do I sit and wait and and still forgive you?
For knowing my scars, and the cracks in my skin,
For trusting you enough for letting you in.
For breaking me even more than I already was,
And laughing at my wounds, just because.
Do I wait for another attack?
Different knife, same back.
You’re too blind to know, and to blind to do,
You’re too blind to realize this is about you.
