Musings by The Poet Loriet
The Gray
I didn't know how hard it would be
to hear your voice once again,
to hear the tears behind your words.
You kept saying, "It's okay. We're...
going to be okay, baby.
Before you, I was numb,
didn't remember how to feel."
You told me all feelings are good,
even the bad ones and that from now on,
you would keep your heart open.
I do want that for you, but
I wish I hadn't caused you pain.
You told me to keep being honest,
keep things "real" even if they hurt you.
I refuse to hurt you any more than I have to,
and you understand that I have to.
It sounds great in theory,
black and white,
no gray areas...
but as I hang up the phone,
I slip into The Gray
and my tears flow freely
into my cup of cold stale coffee.
The tears in your voice haunt me,
mimicking my pain.
You are my mirror image,
and I can't stop
staring into my reflection.
Lori Beal
to hear your voice once again,
to hear the tears behind your words.
You kept saying, "It's okay. We're...
going to be okay, baby.
Before you, I was numb,
didn't remember how to feel."
You told me all feelings are good,
even the bad ones and that from now on,
you would keep your heart open.
I do want that for you, but
I wish I hadn't caused you pain.
You told me to keep being honest,
keep things "real" even if they hurt you.
I refuse to hurt you any more than I have to,
and you understand that I have to.
It sounds great in theory,
black and white,
no gray areas...
but as I hang up the phone,
I slip into The Gray
and my tears flow freely
into my cup of cold stale coffee.
The tears in your voice haunt me,
mimicking my pain.
You are my mirror image,
and I can't stop
staring into my reflection.
Lori Beal
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
The Gray
The Gray
