An Assortment of Poems

Goodbye From Me And My Conscience

You came back? he asks
Yes I came back, says I.
And what do you think? he asks with no emotion, save for curiosity.
Nothing, says I.
You have been here many times before? he asks me.
Indeed, I have spent many a joyous and woebegone days here, says I. Memory is such a painfully beautiful thing.
You left once, he says.
Yes, says I.
What for? he asks to me.
I was tired, says I.
You went for a long time, he says.
I did, says I.
And you missed this place? he asks.
I missed it, says I.
And it missed you, he says.
It did at one point or another, says I. My bitterness has returned to me.
You returned briefly to watch over all you have cultivated and all you have come to love, he says.
Yes I did, says I. I do not like to admit what I do.
And you return frequently now? he asks.
Yes I return frequently, says I.
But silently you go about this place in the night, he says to me. He knows I say nothing and hide.
Yes because I cannot face it all, says I.
You say you leave but still you return? he asks to me. He knows me all too well. He knows I am weak or at least self-centered.
I wish I did not do such a thing, says I. Guilt too plagues me.
What do you seek from such actions? he asks to me.
Change, says I.
You sought change but didn't seek it out for yourself? he asks.
I didn't think it necessary to seek it out, says I.
Were you wrong? he asks.
Very wrong, says I. How very foolish of me.
Do you still seek change? he asks to me.
Yes but I can't get it for myself, says I.
Is that why you must go? he asks to me.
Yes and this time I hope the ghosts do not follow me, says I. All I have worked for lies under a pile of dust. It is forgotten by time and those who once held it in their hands.
Perhaps this time you mean it that you will leave? he asks me.
I mean it, says I.
And it will not be easy, he says. Though he is difficult. He is smart.
It will be very hard, says I.
Will it pain those that you have come to love? he asks to me. He wants to make sure that I know what I'm doing.
Perhaps very much so, says I.
Then why do it? he asks.
Perhaps they shan't notice for they have not so far, says I.
You will leave much behind, he says to me.
That pains me but there is a greater pain I have suffered, says I. I cough for I too am blanketed with dust.
Much will be left unfinished, he says.
Perhaps it is supposed to be this way, says I. I cannot finish the things I once loved. I couldn't bear it all.
Have you paid your dues? he asks to me.
I owe them nothing else, says I. In fact it is they who owes me.
Here now in the dead of night you are ready to go? he asks me. I pause.
Yes I am ready to leave the burden behind, says I. I have been ready for quite some time.
Will you ever return? he asks to me.
Not in this form, says I. Enough is enough. I am ready and so too is he.
Then shall we go? he asks to me. Perhaps I am a coward though I am ready to go.
Yes let us go, says I.
Any loose ends or last things to say? he asks to me.
Forgive me and goodbye, says I.