Glass of Wine

Sit down and have a glass of wine.

We’ll toast to us, 

and then we’ll dine

on all the memories that have caused

us pain,

and the memories we hope to gain.

In search of clarity

to understand the severity

of what caused our

strain.

Tearing me,

now scaring me,

of what was claimed.

A different perspective

is different than a separate

reality.

Emotions blended with facts,

I can give you that.

All I hear from you

is desperation

for separation

from the truth.

It unsettles you.

I won’t leave

even when you’re cold

and a fire is bold

outside.

I will fight

for you 

to come through

to the other side.

There’s peace,

I promise.

I won’t leave,

I promise.

Even when you push me

out of the door,

I will fight…

fight for more.

What happened to us?

Even from the battles,

I never thought I left a scar.

My body is covered,

and the doctor was charged.

I have healed,

and I want that for you.

I want you better,

as I’ve always known you.

How is your wine?

How is your dinner?

You haven’t sipped;

you haven’t muttered

a word.

Your silence is heavy.

It fills the air.

I’m breathing it in

and guessing the scents.

I have missed you

for quite some time.

I still miss you,

do you want more wine?

I see you moving.

Are you leaving?

Please don’t go,

I’m tired of grieving.

Even when you’re sitting

in front of me,

you’re still so absent.

It’s clear to see.

Please remember,

I will never leave.

I watch you go.

You close the door.

I came with answers,

but you left with more.

I hope you return;

the door stays open.

No matter the hurt,

I’ll remain focused.

I love you.

I’ll love you forever.

I’ll love you beyond that.

Even when you’re guarded,

I’ll continue to pray

that you, too, love me

and one special day,

I’ll see you at the table

and this time you’ll stay.