365 Days of Poetry: Day Two-Hundred and Sixty-Seven

I remember.
waking up next to you.
and thinking.
this is where I am supposed to be.
forever and ever.
amen.

but.
it is not to be.
for I am too broken.
and barely alive.
and you are the same.
boundaries thin.
boundaries thick.
it does not match.

alone is better.
influence too much of a strain.
on a soul already burdened.
by consequences.

the world and the words.
do not stop turning.
but joy cannot be given.
it must be won.

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About June Faramore

Writer of fantasy, mainstream, and young adult fiction. Poet and sketcher. Mother. I read a lot and love cheese. Guitar playing singer-songwriter. I also enjoy stepping on the cracks in the sidewalk. View all posts by June Faramore

3 responses to “365 Days of Poetry: Day Two-Hundred and Sixty-Seven

  • shrinksarentcheap

    I love the last line. Joy must be won. What an overwhelming idea…

  • Faith

    and you are the same.
    boundaries thin.
    boundaries thick.
    it does not match.

    This described a relationship I had. My boundaries, my walls were too high, too thick to be passed through. That never worked with the flip side of no boundaries and open like a pipe so that everything flowed through without filtering. I was so annoyed, why can’t you control yourself? I caused annoyance. Why are you always under control, always thinking? We were a disaster, breaking apart and hurting faster than we could heal.

this side, that side

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