Stairways go up . . .  AND down

To Mr. Stubborn, of course!  Who else?

You whisked me away, saying I wasn’t she,

The one who has lived forever in your dreams,

I wanted to scream and ram both our heads

against a wall for the sheer senselessness of it all.

You know your error now, but do you know how

the knowledge of that denial burned a hollowness

within my chest, a void left so vast, so deep

it was impossible to fill, except, of course, by you.

I’ve always wondered how that loss

mirrored back, had affected its creator, a . . .

Mr. Stubborn I-will-never-admit-I'm-wrong-kind-of-guy.

Was denial the only way to run from the pain?

Whatever, know that none of this matters now. 

My heart’s desire has not changed.

I am here still whenever you are ready

to admit what you already know as truth

and accept the reality of who WE are.

By Shirl A. Steward, 10/11/2005.