First it was me
Then it was we
And we became us.
In a blink it became I.
I became the other woman.
Once the object of your affection
Now just an object
An object receiving your silent rejection.
She suddenly became the future me.
The story of we.
Stealing our us.
A different kind of silence for her.
One of omission
A blanket of protection
One that kept you from feeling her rejection.
That omission of us
The love we shared
Made me the other
Now a pure love that I had for you
Became ***** and tainted
A secret to be kept.
I became the other woman
With no rights to reach out
No expectations allowed
I had to wait and wonder
While you pondered your quest
I was left alone with questions
I was left to manage all the unknowns
She became the conversation
The object of your focus
Not excluded
Left in the dark
Alone.
She became me
And I became the other woman.
Grieving alone
A secret

Swimming in this salty sea
Stings wounds to life
Once buried deep inside
Now living at the surface
Open and exposed
They taunt me
I am covered in grief
I taste it on my lips
I'm desperate to escape.
Its' vastness frightens me
Panic rises up from the sea's floor
Gripping me
I move to quickly
And become tangled in its' embrace
The saltiness on my tongue
Steals my breath
And drowns my voice
It wouldn't matter if the scream
Escaped though
Because no one is there to hear my cry.
This sea is my life
And I am swimming in it alone.

I reached for you and
found an empty shell.
When I called out
the echo of my loneliness
called back at me.
I searched and
could not find your shadow
in the darkness.
I cried alone.

"All things end." Rolls arrogantly
off your lips.
I know. Reply yes.
But silently think....
"All things do not have the same ending."
I'll ponder the end of a day
when the moon chases the sun from its' sky.
Some will find rest at the end of that day
while others will find restlessness.
Yes, days end, but the end is not
the same for all.
My mind will drift to the end of innocence.
For some this will be a welcomed
end.
But what about innocence stolen
by the perverted desires of a
trusted love one?
What will that ending bring?
Then there is the end of life.
Maybe it is a life lived full with
Love, loss, and laughter
and the remembrance
of time shared gently caresses the
salt stained cheeks of the ones left behind.
Now see a young girl watching
her mother drift into the grave
as the child's dead brother is buried.
A young child's life
cut short
and a mother's heart broken
leaving behind an empty shell.
The end of life.
The end of a Mother's presence.
The end of a family as once known.
Endings with impact
felt yet not revealed for years to come.
Then there are the endings
Without beginnings.
The dream of loving fully and being loved
unfulfilled, incomplete.
And desires for a forbidden love
only fulfilled through fantasy
Until one day
reality steals the dream
and another ending comes to pass.
So be careful when you say,
"All things end."
For all things do not
have the same ending.