In Spite of It All

by David Christopher Johnston
Deafened by heavy breathing
I’m staring at the ceiling
Waiting for you to fall asleep
There can’t be a decent reason
Why I’m only happy when you’re screaming
This isn’t how it’s meant to be, surely?
I’ll wait until the lights go out
So I can sneak away
Back to the smiles and the good times of yesterday
It’s been so long since you and me felt right
That wrong just seems the way
But it’s too easy
To find reasons not to stay
Well, I always said I’d fight for love
But I’m going to let you leave tonight
And I know we said we’d fight for us
But I can’t let you bleed me dry
Please give me one good reason
Because then you swear you’re leaving
You must be running out of cause
And when men give you attention
I hope that you’ll leave with them
Just so I can make out this was all your fault
Tell me the day this went astray
I’ll travel back and make it change
If just to bring the smile back to your face
And it’s so sad I can’t remember how it felt to feel in love
Through all this hate
We say goodnight and call it a day
There’s no effect without good cause
As we sit here waiting for the other to stall and fall
We wait for brighter days
While both aware that things are never going to change
Why cry? We can’t deny
It’s fallen apart and we didn’t even try
We kept the fun inside and left
I wish this would turn out right
I guess I’m in no doubt we had some real good times
But forgotten all is not enough
In spite of it all I remember love
It’s such a shame it’s been replaced by this stale blood…
~
Copyright © 2023 David Christopher Johnston.
David Christopher Johnston hereby asserts and gives notice of his right under s.77 and s.78 of the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work of fiction. All moral rights are asserted.
All rights reserved. No part of this work of fiction may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author. This poem is a work of fiction and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.