Don't look at me like that, with your feet askew, pointing in different directions as if to point me the wrong way. Look at me and disagree, don't sideglance your argument. I want to hear and know how you can't underestand this, this that I have measured, marked and cut. You are wrong and don't want to say, so you say everything else you can think of. Wounding words, sharp stabs at esteem, confidence crackers, you throw these and I catch them in my net of Disbelief.
How can you not see what is laid out in front of you like a hot meal waiting for your mouth to consumate it.
I can believe there was some fork in your road that hinder your ability to resolve conflicts, like a fork in your lifeline at some alteration in your journey here. I can't believe that you force yourself into this lonely corner of rightiousness. Do you keep a blanket there? At night when the past whispers what you know is true, do you listen? When the sun comes up on another chance to change and release your hold on stubborness, what is your ritual? Is it such a habit that you don't see it? Cancer that surges through and strokes your chances aside. Tomorrow maybe.