the neglectedA Poem by delapruchna.how it came to be this way, s/he just can’t believe--- as the cliché goes, “it seems like just yesterday” that they had been rolling, bouncing, drilling in the hay & yet, s/he wasn’t spared what others told him/her would be the inevitable--- for soon, interest in the rolling, the bouncing & the drilling to the heights of that once compassionate bond between the two of them, on the part of her/his still significant other, faded & dissipated away, to the point where the suggestion of separate rooms was made, for “it really is easier to sleep in a bed alone, honey,” s/he was told quickly.
increasingly embarrassed as the days go by, to have to walk that long hallway in order to knock on the door of her/his past-lover who is now simply a housemate, to ask for the scraps of intimacy that may be left, that might be allotted to him/her before it has all washed away entirely, s/he starts to change her/his look, s/he gets a different hairstyle & s/he starts to become receptive to those around him/her that might want more than a chat by the fax machine or a stroll outside the facility after lunch--- where it will go, where it can go, nobody knows, but one can believe that s/he feels guilty, because that good ol’ christian upbringing has instilled in him/her a complex, which hid his/her own sexuality for so many years & now it spreads inside like the most rampant of cancers, beating against the walls inside her/his brain, that s/he must be devoted, that s/he must do what s/he must in order to keep a “happy” home, that s/he must deny her/his own body, that s/he mustn’t indulge during the only life that s/he has & so, just around the bend is not only the end of a “relationship,” but also the end of a “faith,” one that should have been dead long ago & the neglected lover, the neglected believer, will no longer be neglected. once s/he puts her/his foot down & walks away from it all. © 2012 delapruch |
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Added on November 19, 2012 Last Updated on November 19, 2012 Authordelapruchnothingville, NYAboutBio: The writer we call delapruch has been writing since infancy. His first piece was scrawled on the inside of his mother’s womb. Long since published, the rights now reside in the hands o.. more..Writing
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