a different sort of wedding

I’ve been playing around with the poem below for quite a few days now, and it’s trying to morph into a song but it hasn’t quite made it there yet.
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whenever failure weds frustration
two wrongs in consummation
the breakdowns come in circles and waves
and certain kinds of failing
just make you feel you’re flailing
but you don’t give up so you can feel brave

but have we come to the end of the road, my love?
Have we come to the end of the road?
You don’t want to go, and I don’t want to stay
We’re just different people, going different ways.

There’s a certain kind of sadness
when a goodbye never happens
suspended in the disbelief, a grain of doubt
and though we both understand
that things did not work out as planned
we never push the big red button to take the easy way out

fatalism is best friends
with the way this story ends
when you expect nothing, it’s exactly what you’ll find
but in the evening when the light is low
and the melodies come nice and slow
I know you’ll always be there in the back of my mind

I’m always going to find you in the stillness of the night
I’m always going to reach for you when things seem right
I’m always going to hold your hand when I don’t have one to hold
I’m always going to be with you, until we get old

but we have come to the end of the road, my love.
we have come to the end of the road.
you don’t want to go, and i don’t want to stay
we’re just different people, going different ways.
we’re just different people, going different ways.

what they say

“they” say when one door closes
another one opens
but i’m not sure that it’s true
and if it is then i shouldn’t
have opened
the one that led to you
come to think of it
(why didn’t i think of it?)
it’s best to keep them sealed
if you never let in hurt
then you never
have to let it heal

and yes, this room is small
but i like it after all
it doesn’t need the sun
like i don’t need anyone
and yes, this room is dark
i’ll light candles with a spark
it doesn’t need the moon
like i don’t need you

“they” say that there are plenty
of fish in the sea
but i’m not sure that it’s true
and if it is then i shouldn’t
have followed
the line that led to you
come to think of it
(why didn’t i think of it?)
it’s best to run away
if you never put down roots
then you’re never
expected to stay

and yes, this room is small
but i like it after all
it doesn’t need the sun
like i don’t need anyone
and yes, this room is dark
i’ll light candles with a spark
it doesn’t need the moon
like i don’t need you

(no subject)

i know you’ll never understand
the reasons for my departure
many men haven’t in
the recent record of
these past three years

i left because i wasn’t me
and i never would be with you
there’s no accounting for where i went
or why i would never return
just know that i wouldn’t have

and, having already gone missing
for ten long years, i hope
you’ll excuse me if i can’t (won’t) disappear again

i’m going to run
and write poetry
and sing songs
and attempt to decipher
a method for
revealing my imperfections
instead of varnishing
over the cracks

damn if the sky wasn’t blue today
and the sun lemon yellow
and the clouds cotton puffs.
How can that be
when I’ve just discovered the inherent pleasures
that swell when I don’t hear your voice?
Abrupt, this turn of events
like an unresolved chord
that hangs there, suspended –
the tension of its rope amplified
by the weight of the absence of your body.