The realization.

The realization. 

That your eyes are not deep enough,
They cannot speak enough words, 
Scattered and looming slightly above. 

That your touch is yet too harsh,
It cannot soothe new wounds,
Brash and quickly judged sparse. 

That your smile does not bring joy,
It cannot render even listless hope,
Flitty & fleeting, demure & coy. 

That your hope does not filter out,
It brings no notice of better days,
Holding no gloves for this bout. 

That your wants mean little,
They fill no space in his heart or mind,
Your goodness, not returned in kind. 

That your dream should end,
Waking swiftly into this lifeless place,
That your heart is too shattered to mend. 

That you must pull you up alone,
Isolated pillars inside heart/place ruins,
That you will walk on, alone, toward home. 

Jason Christopher Johnson
March 7, 2012