Poem: “Disease”

Anything that I’ve done

in the past six months

has been done

perfunctorily

for I am never free

of the thought of

the phone call or

the conversation that

informs me that

‘you’ will not be continuing

your role in ‘us’

We are both in demand and

where I ignore my inbox and

select not to make you aware

as not to upset you

(ever cognizant that you

in all of your outward confidence

are actually quite jealous)

you choose to tell me

of your paramours

making me think that whether it’s

tomorrow or beyond

that perhaps my days

as they say

are numbered

I do not know if this type of thinking

is healthy

(I suppose not)

but it does make me work harder

and be better

(while in the back of my head are

the voices from the past

telling me that

I am of no worth or value and

what the hell happened to you)

so thinking that

despising me is a pandemic

(or at least an epidemic)

I continue to wait for you to be

infected with this disease

copyright 2012 Steven Harz

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