Games We Play

From across the games table where we sit,
I smile at him familiarly
fondly
intimately.
"Have you always been so stubborn?"
I ask patiently
mirthfully
lightly.
"How can you not see that you are a slave
to your own twisted reason and logic?
You have shackled yourself in a
one-dimensional box --
proverbially buried your head in the sand.
Fearing to open your eyes and see the truth.
To open your eyes and mind and live!"
LET GO!!!
I grow weary of playing this same game
again and again,
as addictive as it is in it's simple complexity
I am tired
bored.
We have both sinned, transgressed, hurt.
We both have scars.
How long do we need to sit at this table,
close enough to touch but not daring to,
flinging cruel barbs at one another
before we
(and by we I mean you)
finally let go and be who we were meant to be?
How long must we atone for our pasts?
We regard one another dispiritedly
warily
resignedly.
He broods and sulks.
I smile sadly and finally turn away,
shoulders slumped.
Knowing that one day this situation
will be at an end, resolved,
but it will always be a scar that hurts to touch.