I shall be thine Atlas, thine scapegoat with a shoulder
That I with weary back might take position as the holder
Of all the items you have boiling up within thee; take them out!
Instead of boiling up, project them unto me and thusly shout:
"Thou art truly a disgrace, a mere construction of a lie
You exist as foul temptation, but you tempt no more, for I
I have gained more pressing matters; I have larger game to shoot
To me, thou art but humble grass smear'd 'neath the footman's boot
And I've become an heiress, or a prince, perhaps, a king!
I've left behind the people who wish to control my everything
My every waking moment is now in my control
You disapprove? Excuse me, but I never asked thee for a poll!"
I shall be thine Atlas, and I'll gladly take your spite
I would also take thine fists, if thou so wish'd to fight
But ne'er in my life would I, lift fist nor finger to you
That's one thing that I wouldn't, nay, couldn't ever do

I do not fear the earth I tread
Beneath these darkened skies
My quest is to walk in honesty
Escaping deciet and lies
Each day I am reminded
By this challenge of mine
It's like scaling the highest mountain
That man will ever climb.

Will
the magic,
the tenderness,
the caring
still be there
when next
we meet again?

Has
too much
damage
been done
to this heart
of mine
to let me love
freely--
as in the past?

I think
this time
I will
venture
slowly
into this
relationship
called Love.
I will
remain alert
and wary
for any signs
of wear--
and if in fact
I find
that my heart
cannot be
repaired
then
I will
transplant
myself
into a state
of unviewed
emotions
and vow
to never again
fall for this
journey
we call Love.

How much longer will this petty game continue?
It was clear I still needed you after my farewell
And it's persisted until the present;
Today I miss you
Like man underwater grasping for air
A desire with no real intention beside perceiving what it means to be alive
You see, there is no hope in you and I
For I am the flower, and you are the stem