And still we have a union.

And still we have a union.

Relationships,

Even the good ones,

Need work

To maintain

Their spark.

Too many fail,

Through lack of care,

And consideration

For the little things.

Until even the

Good times

Are forgot.

Golden days lost,

Tarnished now, and

Bound to disappoint

As they lie,

Buried by a slew

Of broken promises.

When the whisper

That kissed your cheek,

Is a stick,

To beat you with.

And every word

Is sharpened with

A cutting edge.

Every edge

Is raw.

Words are

Crudely ripped.

Torn into shards,

And strips.

Crosscut, with

A chainsaw.

Tossed into a furnace,

To burn with indignation.

No more conversation,

Stilted phrases,

Filled with silence.

Pregnant,

With awkward pauses.

Intimacy once shared,

Withheld.

The shield of self

Protection

A wall,

To hide behind.

No more

The union of two souls,

But a sorry tale

Of unlike minds.

And yet,

Sometimes,

A drawing back,

You try again,

But in such a staying

Everything must change.

No status quo,

Or still, in the end,

There is no choice,

You have to go.