Poems

This is Gentle

I reach out to comfort his quivering hand. He quickly pulls in the opposite direction of my touch causing friction.
"Be gentle with me," he snaps.

"Gentle?" I repeat the word sweetly even though his words to me were bitter. "I have been nothing but gentle to you." I rub my untouched hand over my throbbing one, trying to dull the emotional and physical ache.

I know she just handed his heart back to him in a cardboard box when he gave it to her on a silver platter, but every inch of me needed to hold him like he needed to be held in that situation. I had been to far from him for so long.

"Gentle," I murmur. "Is when I gave you galaxies of space as I was being ripped apart by a black hole because of the distance I had to put between us pushed me so far out of my original orbital path."

"Gentle," I say. "Is when I speak in a low rumble, when I speak in even rhythms, when I settle for tears instead of screams so I don't upset you."

"Gentle," I bite. "Is when I hold back everything I need to say because you don't want to hear it."

"Gentle." I raise my voice to almost a force. "Is continuing to love you when you stopped loving me because you told me 'wait for me'."

I inhale sharply but do not open my mouth because anything more I had to say would be screaming and I didn't wish to use harsh tone against him. That was not me.

"This is gentle." I pause calmly, and collect myself. "You should know what gentle is by now, I have been nothing but gentle to you when you have been everything but gentle to me."

I turn to leave. "Do not tell me to be gentle with you. You need to be gentle with me."