First Post

During my divorce, I started to explore writing as an outlet for my emotions. At first, I started with a fantasy book that I'd been toying with for years and found that one of the characters should be a bit of a poet. Suffice it to say I am no poet. But it became an outlet I threw myself into. Eventually, trying to write a poem that fit the narrative of the story became too taxing and I wrote one about the situation I was in that I would like to share. Prisoners of Love: A Bitter Divide Wife: I wake to walls I cannot see, Bound by silence, you and me. This love, a prison, worn and cold, Its bars of promises now grown old. Each word exchanged feels sharp, unkind, A jangling chain within my mind. Your voice once sweet, now strikes a chord, A melody I cannot afford. Your touch, once light, now feels like stone, A weight I carry, not my own. Each day I serve within this cell, The echoes whisper, fare thee well. I see the distance in your eyes, A gulf that deepens as love dies. And though I long to break away, The sentence binds; I have to stay. You call my name, I turn, I pause, But in your words, I hear the flaws. Each question stings, each need’s a chain, Pulling me deeper into disdain. Yet guilt and duty hold me near, A warden made of love and fear. For though I long to find the door, The keys are locked in something more. Perhaps the end will bring release, A moment's breath, a sense of peace. But here I wait, and bide my time, A prisoner of love’s own crime. Know it’s not hate that keeps me bound, But weary echoes that resound. And though I seem to pull away, It’s grief that lingers, day by day. Husband: I reach for you with open hands, A heart that aches, that understands. Yet every touch, each word I say, Seems to drive your love away. I am the prisoner in this space, Locked in longing, lost in grace. Each glance you give, so cold, restrained, A silent sentence, unspoken pain. I offer love, but it’s met with stone, A wall you’ve built to stand alone. Your sighs, your silence, the space you crave, Turn our love into a hollow grave. I see the burden you seem to bear, As if my love’s too much to share. A weight you carry, not by choice, Each word I speak, a grating voice. You move through days like time to serve, Each moment flat, without reserve. I try to reach, to mend, to heal, But you recoil, too numb to feel. The joy we knew, now faded, thin, I wonder when the end begins. Am I the chain that keeps you here? Or is it love turned into fear? I suffer in this lonely cell, Where hope and despair together dwell. Longing to hold what’s slipping away, While you count the moments until you stray. I want to love, to bridge this divide, But it feels like you’ve already died. Still, I stay, though the hurt runs deep, Bound by promises I vowed to keep. If I am the cause of this prison you know, Then let me set you free, let you go. For though it would tear me apart to see, Your freedom may bring peace to me. Husband and Wife: We stand within these fragile walls, A crumbling fortress, love's own thralls. Each side a mirror, cracks and pain, Reflecting loss we can't contain. Your silence speaks, my voice falls low, A haunting tune we both now know. The chains we bear, though forged in love, Have bound us tight, yet not enough. I see your tears, you feel my grief, Both searching for a shared relief. Yet every touch, each word, each glance, Feels like the end of one last chance. We hold the keys, yet will not turn, Afraid of freedom we might not earn. But prisons built on love and strife, Are no place to rekindle life. So here we stand, at love’s divide, With hearts too weary to collide. Perhaps the only peace we'll see, Is learning to let each other be. For love once sweet, now bittersweet, Will find release when we retreat. Not hate, but hope, must guide the way, To find the dawn of a brighter day. (edited)