Home, anymore.

It's not your fault.
Or really mine, even.
Fell face-first in a hopeless hole
We'd dug so willingly ourselves.

I tried to help
So did you, but in the end
Love just isn't quite enough
To cover up the slights and slivers
Growing blisters in our life.

It's the hope that is the worst part.
The plans and dreams and hope for something better
That I'd finally realized
Wasn't enough either.

It isn't enough to hope and love
And dream and wish.
You gotta do
Stop talking and do.
Be still to listen so you can really hear
The shoe about to drop
Or the wave about to crash
Or the last door about to shut and disappear.

I tried to help.
So did you, but I
Just can't do this anymore.

I'm not sure that this hopeless is even a feeling, anymore.
But it might have bled out to clot over the whole place.
These bursting blisters full of our resentment
Our anger.
Our loss.
Just might have turned a great tide in me.

This might not be my home, anymore.