Poetry: Bleeding Through the Year in Verse

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It’s been a difficult year,

You wrote me a song and told me it’s over.

It’s been a treacherous year,

Every conversation’s been feeling like a hostile takeover.

Having dinner on the frontlines,

Sharing a drink across enemy lines;

Across the dinner table I fire a shot

The bullet ricochets, your sigh an afterthought. 

An unforgiving year, ‘cause you won’t tell me what’s wrong;

What to forgive and where to start.

Won’t sing me a melody, won’t write me a song,

That doesn’t end with your pen through my heart.

The days bleed together, ‘cause you won’t answer my calls,

Won’t return fire, but this ceasefire, cuts worse than our fiercest wars.

They tell me to sing, but I can’t hold a tune without your name on it;

Can’t envision a future, and the past is still bleeding where we split.

It’s been a terrifying year, ‘cause I’m still jumping at the shadows,

Of your disappointment, the discontent that you compose.

An inconceivable year, ‘cause God, this isn’t how we were meant to end;

In bitterness and outrage, to the warfront of silence condemned.

But maybe you’ll say something, if I sing loud enough;

Maybe you’ll hold up a shield if I fire another shot.

So I’ll smile and I’ll croon and I’ll twirl, till I’ve come undone

Brought you down or choked on the melody you forgot.