I travel cities with eager and hope ,
I leave home as if I won't get back ,
It's a beautiful pain ,the one that wakes a man out bed early.

In the mixture of emotions it comes ,
Like another episode.
Curious to explore and expect ,
This is when love is no more admired,
But felt like a curse.

On arrival no hurry to meet ,greet or call.
Above ignorance is disrespect but more of excuses,
It's the day I was aware ,it was no love
But a bluff

Do you speak of future we shall spend time together,and no hurry to spend time together?
What does future relate with now ?
Is one immature or just uninterested?

After  years  of  you  giving me the silent treatment                                                        ­                                          if  no  one  calls  I  think  it's because  of a disagreement                                                     ­                             Because  of  your consistent  lack  of communication                                                    ­                  sometimes  when  I talk, I forget people are listening                                                        ­         Convinced I am never enough or  I'm too  much                                                        ­                                                I overdo for others in hopes of earning their love                                                             ­                                                     Under your  sense of grandiose entitlement                                                      ­                                                      I've  put myself last and under your judgement                                                        ­                                                    With persistent efforts to  disrespect me                                                                                                                          I  over explain and apologize habitually                                          I've  accepted bread crumbs of your affection                                                        ­                                             a love  concocted of toxin and poisonous venom

Ladies or girls traditionally keep
A bottom drawer of things they
Put aside aganst the day they wed,
As I understand it mainly linen
But that is just my surmise
And I welcome any edification dear
Hepo community as to what truly does go therein,
But I digress because in many ways I
Have a bottom drawer of my own,
Set within my heart and full
Of my own finest linen and satin,
Or rather that very best of me
That only comes out for the most
Special of guests,
Those who one hopes - expects -
Will avoid spills and jammy finger rubbing
If only because it IS the best....

But every time it seems I lay out my
Best tablecloths and napkins,
Take time to clean the silver canteen
And place the family silver so very carefully,
Set the fine crystal glasses
In order beside the favourite mats and chargers,
The guest or guests,
(For this does not just apply to romantic partners,)
Prove after all to be ill manered,
Disrespectful - rude,
And wreck not just the table setting but in
Your case gouge even the dark beauty
Of my prized and treasured table,
So I have laundered my cloth and ironed it,
Shut away the cutlery in its canteen,
Stowed the crystal
And gently closed the drawer,

Just the every day stuff now,
One Cup
One plate,
One bowl,
One knife one fork one spoon,

One me

Because “yes”
Means yes
And “no”
Means no,
Especially when I’m being
Ever so
Serious with the things
I’m seeing
From you; Messaging
But never speaking.
Stop asking questions when
I say so (then
Maybe I’d try to
Be nicer to
You).
There are reasons as to why
I don’t really cry
In front of those I can’t rely
On. Stop bugging me
And then we’ll see.

I have to throw up walls...
I have to refuse...
I wish I didn't have to,
But that's not possible;
At least not with you.

I love you and I've learned.
I can't give you everything.
Or you would just use me up.
The frustrating part?
You're unaware. Or your not listening.
It's the same either way.
It's for my own good
And yours too

Your reaction confirms I'm doing the right thing
Or you'd never respect my answer
(not that you really do now)
but I respect myself enough to say it.

I've been too lenient with you.
A realization that comes too late.
Like a mother and her child
Realizing her mistake during the tantrum.
The realization comes with the knowledge that you present understanding until met with opposition.
Contradictory texts and I now realize, painfully, you knew it was a big ask

....you just weren't expecting me to say no....

You don't respect my time. That much is clear. I just wish I realized it sooner.

Forgiveness, to forgive                    (for me)
Is essentially subtle- to a fault,
Beautifully it's practiced,
Yet inherently mistaught:
To ask of anything more
From the person you've done wrong
Is blatantly selfish, at its core
Pressuring them along.

Unless exactly, specific and honestly, you reiterate once more.
All the reasons which you petition forgiveness
And what you're sorry for:


To draw conclusions, assumptions and things, without the facts in place-
Was to right out start off in
an Unreasonable head space.
Furthermore, my tone of voice
And the disrespect it achieved
Is not what you- Alena, not at all
From me; should've ever recieved.

Lastly, explicitly I have to say;
I'm sorry for my aggressive words.
And the fact I reacted that way is
absurd
A retort- as a minuet or two, voice note
Deserved the block- and what you wrote.

I'm sorry about this- discrepancy
I actually enjoyed you working with me.
I'll leave this here for you to find, &
Hope these words were worth your time.
When you read, know these are sincere; my apologies- true.
Not just mere pretty, fluffy words for you.

Poetry's something I, almost know, you appreciate~ so heres an apologistic-free vers hyphenate.

Considers protest at disrespect,
To be the sigil
Of a *****.
In reality
He who chokes down ****
And smiles through it,
Is in actuality.
But what is it,
To remit?

Disrespect isn’t a language I speak anymore
But it’s the language we used to adore
Only with you was I able to miscommunicate
Only with you were my opinions misconstrued

Disrespect isn’t a language I speak anymore
My memory of it is rusty
I can barely remember the grammar
It was intricate and had a specific structure
My boundaries were always compromised
After every time I’d let you lie

Disrespect isn’t a language I speak anymore
My tongue can barely roll the r’s
My voice can no longer shout the insults
And my mind has forgotten how to manipulate as a result

Disrespect isn’t a language I speak anymore
So, when we saw each other unexpectedly
When used one of its idioms  
I could no longer recognize it
I no longer am fluent in it

My crybaby tears disappeared and my river of feelings froze over
You can’t ever really feel my pain but you can admire the icy crystals that lay over
The waters in which my mind swims in
Underneath my icy wall is a castle with abundant life
Creatures that would inflict terror at night
Kissing my cheek and protecting my life