In love -
feral,
unbroken, and
unaccustomed
to your ways
of thinking,
of loving,
of being,
my resolve is
suffocating -
drowning in a
sea of
assumptions.
Assumptions,
sorted presumptions
have a way of
distorting
what is true.
What may be true
turns into
misconceptions,
misapprehensions, and
misinterpretations.
Ultimately,
Miss-Understanding
stands strong at
the threshold.
That bitch -
Miss-Understanding,
she, divides what
I thought I
heard you say
and what you
meant.
She
separates
my perceptions and
realities
from
your intentions and
actions.
That bitch, she
makes it difficult
to locate Mr.
Reconciliation,
even if he is
standing right
next to us.
And we, you
and I find
ourselves on
a battlefield at
the corner of
Shut Down and
Communication.
We choose
Shut Down Way
located in the
community of
Schism;
I take a right
and settle in on
Retreat Avenue.
You hang a left
and move
all your things onto
Resentment Drive.
And every
morning
we miss
the bus,
the ride
destined for
sound
communication,
because we
refuse to
lose ourselves,
our baggage, and
our preconceived
ideas and
move out into
the unknown.
We would
settle at the
cusp of our
breaking.
Oh that
I would throw
my hands up,
mouth closed,
and ears listening
without preparing
a response; and that
you would speak
from your heart, and
then hear me as
I pour out my
thoughts.
Reciprocation
right there -
would direct
us to the road of
better interaction.
We would
be at the cusp
of breaking into
a beautiful, lasting
relationship,
right there, love...
Bashing
assumptions,
misconceptions, and
misinterpretations,
we’d escort
that bitch, Miss-understanding
right out the door.
We’d recognize
and realize
Mr. Reconciliation
and welcome him in.
In love –
cultivated,
broken-in, and
accustomed
to our ways
of thinking,
of loving,
of being
my resolve,
our resolve
would be
floating –
balanced in a
sea of
understanding.
feral,
unbroken, and
unaccustomed
to your ways
of thinking,
of loving,
of being,
my resolve is
suffocating -
drowning in a
sea of
assumptions.
Assumptions,
sorted presumptions
have a way of
distorting
what is true.
What may be true
turns into
misconceptions,
misapprehensions, and
misinterpretations.
Ultimately,
Miss-Understanding
stands strong at
the threshold.
That bitch -
Miss-Understanding,
she, divides what
I thought I
heard you say
and what you
meant.
She
separates
my perceptions and
realities
from
your intentions and
actions.
That bitch, she
makes it difficult
to locate Mr.
Reconciliation,
even if he is
standing right
next to us.
And we, you
and I find
ourselves on
a battlefield at
the corner of
Shut Down and
Communication.
We choose
Shut Down Way
located in the
community of
Schism;
I take a right
and settle in on
Retreat Avenue.
You hang a left
and move
all your things onto
Resentment Drive.
And every
morning
we miss
the bus,
the ride
destined for
sound
communication,
because we
refuse to
lose ourselves,
our baggage, and
our preconceived
ideas and
move out into
the unknown.
We would
settle at the
cusp of our
breaking.
Oh that
I would throw
my hands up,
mouth closed,
and ears listening
without preparing
a response; and that
you would speak
from your heart, and
then hear me as
I pour out my
thoughts.
Reciprocation
right there -
would direct
us to the road of
better interaction.
We would
be at the cusp
of breaking into
a beautiful, lasting
relationship,
right there, love...
Bashing
assumptions,
misconceptions, and
misinterpretations,
we’d escort
that bitch, Miss-understanding
right out the door.
We’d recognize
and realize
Mr. Reconciliation
and welcome him in.
In love –
cultivated,
broken-in, and
accustomed
to our ways
of thinking,
of loving,
of being
my resolve,
our resolve
would be
floating –
balanced in a
sea of
understanding.