Something Bout Her: Poems of Love

22. Teddy's Crumbling Home

There is something bout her that I couldn't define, 
As love's journey unraveled, our hearts intertwined.

Confusion wrapped me in its relentless embrace, 
Answers eluded me, a cruel chase. 
Overwhelmed by chaos, I reached for my phone, 
In desperation, I couldn't be alone.

I broke my vow, texting her once more, 
Hoping to find solace as my heart tore.

Everything looked like a sign, a trick of the mind, 
Eleven heads in a row, fate seemed aligned. 
Before I texted, I stared at the coin, 
Each flip a whisper, each flip a groan.

I told her how I’d been, my recent state, 
Not blinded by love, just carrying the weight. 
"I still want you in my life," I confessed, 
"Even if you don't love me, I wish you the best."

It doesn't hurt that bad now, maybe I’ve healed, 
Or perhaps I’ve learned to endure what I once concealed. 
I tried to convince her, we could solve the plight, 
But my efforts faltered, lost in the night.

"I'm completely exhausted," I admitted, my voice low, 
"I don't even know what I want, where to go. 
I'd still die for you, but love feels distant, 
Even if I got you back, it might be inconsistent.

I'm completely blank, there's nothing inside, 
Hollow, metaphorically, where feelings used to reside. 
But I know there's something missing, a piece unfilled, 
A void that echoes, a silence that's stilled."

She replied with wisdom, a calm, steady tone, 
"You're feeling hollow, seeking fillers unknown. 
You think you need someone to complete your existence, 
But that path leads to attachment, resistance.

Focus on your inner fulfillment," she advised, 
"Look inward, not outward, for your soul to rise. 
I’m saying this not as a past lover, but as a friend, 
Completion starts within, not from another’s end."

I responded, trying to make her see, 
"This isn't about dependency, it's about me. 
Even if I don't love you anymore one day, 
I’ll still try to keep you close, come what may.

You’re the best person I’ve ever known, 
Old teddies aren’t discarded, even when grown. 
You'd say I'll find better people, that may be true, 
But you can't compare people to toys, don’t have doubt."

She challenged my analogy, with a thoughtful retort, 
"What if the old teddy's worn out, a last resort? 
You discard it, replace it, or go without, 
By now, you should start hating me, don't have doubt. 
But you can't compare people to toys," she exclaimed, sincere.

We both danced around words, trapping each other in thought, 
She declared closure, feeling that we fought. 
In my mind, I thought, "This is my last try, 
To keep her in my life, I won't let this die."

But she wanted to end it, tired of the strain, 
I told her, "Now it's closure, I’m done with this pain. 
I can't do it anymore, I’m officially done, 
Trying to get you back, the battle’s been won."

She mistook my disappointment for anger's glow, 
Said, "Let things go, for your soul to grow. 
It's never gonna work, we're different people, 
Look at this conversation, it’s a church without a steeple."

I asked, "How can one build a house, 
When the other sees only doubt and douse?"

She replied, "We built a house, and it broke, 
Rebuilding won't make it strong, walls are spoke. 
A repaired house has cracks, it will crumble and fall, 
This isn't about bricks, but the people after all."

I refused, "A broken house can be stronger, 
We know the weak parts, can last longer."

But she said, "This isn't a house, it's people, 
Incompatible bricks, not a church, no steeple."

And yet again, we weren't on the same page, 
Our hearts in different chapters, not in the same cage.