Maria Hill

My heart was ready.
Where was yours?
You were home to me.
Why was I not welcome with you?
I was happy to give what I had.
What cost could you not bear?
You were my blood.
Why was I a stranger?
I was happy to share.
What shame did it stir?

Your story is not mine.
My story is not yours,
But we each had a moment in time.
That time has gone,
The bridge unrepaired.
The words unsaid
The door forever closed.

The story changed against your will.
Begrudging change,
Cost everything.
The past claimed you
It could not claim me.
And never will.

You had so much silver,
So much fine china, and
Too many houses.
You kept your patriarchal bonafides
You never admitted error
And so you lost me.
Was it worth it?

Photo by Andrew Neel on Unsplash