Aloof.
The word is round in my mouth. Light and airy like a down pillow.
But it means, “I want you to think I don’t care.”
This word is my enemy. It is everything I stand against. It begs the question: why do you even bother to show up?
It is cruel. It is an intentional sting. It is cowardice turned inside out and sharpened into a weapon.
If you cannot say what you feel, why must you take it out on the person who cannot discern your meaning? The fight is not between the two of you. The fight is between you and yourself. You just don’t know that you’ve already lost.
Why do we have to pretend anything? I will take oblivious. I’ll empathize with naive. I can even settle for plain stupid. But aloof? It has no place in this fiery heart. It finds no shelter under the roof of my moony soul. No armchair in my ruminating mind.
Break my heart with merciful truth and I will thank you til the day I die for your valiance, long after the pain has subsided.
Attempt to fool me with a lie and I will throw you by the wayside.
A good expression of feelings. You’ve done that well. But I would say that I often see someone standing in the eye of a hurricane where it is calm and quiet. I stand just outside the outer winds where it is also calm and quiet. If I were to wave, she might not seek shelter before it is too late. Sometimes feelings are a tornado: meandering and destructive. Sometimes it’s best to stand aloof, out of the rain, under a roof. When the storm has passed, there is a rainbow smile that invites a question about where the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow is, as the leprechaun has promised. Sometimes it’s best to stand on a roof to see the aloof wandering around, waiting for a benign storm to rain happy tears. More line breaks and stanzas, Maybe?
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The fight between you and yourself is a life long one.
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Ain’t that the truth!
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