Here I Sit…

I miss cuddling on the couch,

my head resting on his chest

as his strong arms held me close.

Here I sit alone, bereft.


I don’t miss the arguments.

Being chastised, corrected,

for each of my inane faults.

Here I sit calm, collected.


I miss unexpected kisses,

ones that swept me off my feet

to another dimension.

Here I sit with no such treat.


I don’t miss green jealousy

rearing its dark, ugly head

whenever I spoke to men.

Here I sit with friends instead.


I miss confiding in him.

Lighten the load by sharing

rather than bottle it up.

Here I sit now despairing.


I don’t miss having no time

to indulge my own desires,

stuck with paired activities.

Here I sit with fellow writers.


Missing, not missing. What now?

Pros and cons weighed together.

Do I open myself up

or shut down altogether.

What if I’m missing something?

The big wide world is waiting.

Good, bad; an experience.

Here I sit hesitating.



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