Responses

It always happens when things were going so well.

There is always one response.

I walk away.

There are two different responses.

Either he looks at me with disdain,

Or he asks if he made me angry.

And I wonder how I could say yes

When I don't have any right to say,

When I can't rightly claim the space,

When I don't even want to be left alone

As much as I just want to leave alone.

There is always one response.

I always curse the day,

With the same words, said the same way,

and I wish that he would go.

Then I would stay.