The anger I feel
is far to real
when I speak of you
The words that pass my lips
are idle fingertips
with vengeful placing
It is not what I wrought
but rather what is thought
which brings me to worry
for how am I to keep
the honesty I seek
if you are the last to hear
My heart was never more near
Than when you chose to cheer
a change in womankind
For the forwardness prevailed
in every detail
every step I have taken
Now I take my bow
to the cowardliness you aroused
throughout my being
So seek no more the truth
but instead see there's proof
in the thing I'm claiming
I'm not the one to run away
in the face of this play
Only the one to admit it
You are not to take a step
or insure I have only wept
over this fickle spawning
Once I did not feel you
but now that awareness has grew
I see there is something you're hiding
Pray tell what could it be
to make me dream you avoid me
in the vise of not seeking me out
You say 'Any love is good'
so if this is not a falsehood
Why am I the only
To have captured up your time
in the most hideous of crimes
this what we call pursuing
Could I take it as proof
that the true fear is in yourself
and I am simply lucky.
S. Elizebeth Turnquist
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