At War

As hard as it is to accept defeat, I guess I can finally say I give up.

Whatever happened to the days when a person can change the world with words? No apology seems to mend old wounds, no oaths bring vigor to weak hearts. No matter how you arrange our 26 letters, you can no longer build bridges of connections lost.  All that being in case why do I still spend countless hours fabricating sonnets and apologies alike, just to realize in the morning that the foundation, for which I base my writings, is as integritous as the foundation of foreign treaties. The facade of having a suitable means of communication and trust between two parties was all I needed to open my hearts borders, ease my inhibitions, and discharge my guards because I believed that those defenses were no longer necessary. I shared everything, my likes, dislikes, my hopes, my fears, my dreams, my nightmares, my power, my pride, my weaknesses, my knowledge. Raw resources that I cultivated, nurtured and grew until they became part of me. The conflict arose over night and before I knew it we were at war. Your secession from our union hindered me. Not only am I fighting a war against you, but I’m also fighting all the connections that were town down, just so you could be apart from me.

This was more than a breakup, it was civil war. And no matter how hard I try I can’t amend the constitution that united us. No matter what I say or how I say it. In other words, I accept defeat.