I always begged her to see that I love her,
but somehow I forgot to show her.
I did not notice, even
when she packed her bags and went to her
mother’s; she did not leave me, but I left her.
She always begged me, provoked me to take her
somewhere, anywhere, or to hold her
hand like I once used to, though
even then I did not cherish her,
even after spending that one night with her.
It always begged me to stop hiding from her –
to look into her eyes, not at her
dancing thighs; oh, but those I
loved. It wanted to open up to her –
to say ‘I love you’, instead of ‘I love her.’
She always begged me to whisper love to her,
but instead I penetrated her
thinking I was showing love
by invading between those thighs; her
eyes did not move, just stared up as I claimed her.
I always begged her for a second chance, her
trust that I haven’t stopped loving her,
that there really is a “you”
in “us”. Oh, but I had love for her,
just hidden between the lines, away from her...
Nathan Bednarek 2008.