fc506dad74928217b1df8183585787bc-267

It was always her idea

to want to sit and meet with him.

To sit, and explain why

no one understood

how it was to feel.  

To sit with him

not as equals,

but both playing a certain part.

The object of her interest

was to explore

what she had always known in her heart.

That tepid sort of fever

just before one succumbs

to that dangerous sickness.

This blind interest

to please

was probably misguided from the start.

This wanting

and giving of herself

was probably something all together different.

Something was missing in her.

Indifferent,

was the proper explanation

for  this curious girl

that  hadn’t ever given

in a way that was unfamiliar  or unknown.

Who could blame her after all

the lifestyle  is like a black eye.

If you’ve ever asked yourself,

the true ringer of an answer

has always been

we tend to fix whatever the problem is

by making an even bigger mess of things.

So she reached out to Him

and in doing so

she was being asked

are you sure

you want things expected of you?

Without a seconds hesitation

she nodded, yes.

Everything always starts with the lessons

the traditional bookwork

where one could show off her

academic prowess.

And without giving too much over

he spelled out how her studies

would need to work.

What came next and followed

was plain speak

the familiar unpolished model

where the easiest of things

became this monumental struggle,

he was disappointed by this one.

Without any real fire or burn

it was impossible for him

to keep the flame of attention lit.

Without an ounce of fight

he let the  once promising candle

simple extinguish itself.

Missed expectations

not just once or twice

it was an entrenched habit with her.

From a series of useless excuses

it made one wonder if

the ideals set out in the lessons

are simply impossible to reach

especially when we live

in a world of missing details.

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