Angry morning
over something
that in the long range scheme of things
is silly. A tiny, little thing, a bit of
selfishness on another's part;
probably completely
unintentional, unrealized.
Yet, a part of me wonders
if it isn't indicative of underlying
issues. Her passions overflow,
misdirected, focused everywhere
but where they need to be--
projecting others inadequacies
on to me.
I am cold or logical when she thinks
I should be compassionate. Says
I am cruel. I say honest. Blunt.
Making excuses for others
just blinds to reality. Yet I,
apparently, am the bad guy.
In the meantime
I just want to eat the melons
my husband cut up for me,
to enjoy the fresh fruit
instead of being left
with an empty bowl to wash.
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