A Circle Within

this afternoon
we see each other

i remember love
but i do not want it
here

i notice you have
gotten too old earlier
that i expected

there must be some
kind of depression

or the hurry which
i think i understand

i remember loving you
once. Yes, just once.

and i understand now
why we never made it

here, or some place else
it is my love

of self that makes me
look younger

i have thrown away hope
from someone

and all these years
i have only relied

on my capacity for
loving myself

my capacity to just
be me, move on, and

expect nothing, no one
is made for me

i am a circle without
an end, without a leak.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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