Separate

It's easy to say
I don't love you
I don't need you
I don't want you
It's over.

We're no good for each other
we're too young for this
we're confused over the phone.

But what is it about standing in front
of one another
looking into eyes
and not being able to think or speak
what we really, truly feel
underneath our hearts
in the pit of our stomachs.

The words are drowning reaching out to hold, to kiss
only the bandages
to cover the wounds
and you never say it
until it's too late...

Tears, screams
and physical fights
the words come from your mouth like vomit
and you can't take them back!

Mixed with hate, frustration
your vomit just lies there waiting
for you to clean it up!
But it's too late...

You should have said what
you felt, a long time ago
should have exposed your wounds,
but now,
it's too late.

So you sit back on a couch
alone
rehearsing a new scenario.

Nicholl McGuire
http://www.twitter.com/poemsbynicholl