Hopeless Proposition

I keep hoping
you will see the light
of reason, swallow
the bitter lump
that took up residence
in your throat long before
I ever met you.

I might as well hope
for the apple tree
that graces my one window
to laugh and grow oranges.

I keep hoping
you will see the truth
is that I never hated you,
but that I couldn't survive
under your cold reign anymore.

Remember how you used to hug me?
The harried face you gave me?
The perfunctory arm, and always
the criticism. Everything felt wrong,
but I'm happy, you'd say. We're happy.
Look around you. Everyone else
is divorced. We're not. We must
be happy.

I keep hoping
you will see inside
yourself and remember
the heart you claimed was mine,
and remember that once,
twice we made something
right.

I keep hoping
you will see who
we made need to retain
something of the grace and wonder
we knew at their conception.

They don't deserve
to see me turn to bone
in a puddle of your vitriol.

I keep hoping, telling myself
Move Forward, Believe
All We Need is Love,
but maybe I should hope
to finally grow up instead,
even if giving up
who I am is hopeless.

I might as well hope
for winter to board a jet
to Abu Dhabi and leave
me swimming in the stream
of endless summer.