Archeology

I comb through the ruins
like an archeologist eager
to find the answers, looking
for signs in the dust that
offer the why, the how,
and the who. And the site
that marks the destruction
of "us" tells the story so
clear. Your reasons are
etched into the fibre of
your character, always
protecting and shielding
others from the beautiful
turmoil in your mind.
Oh it seems like you've
forgotten the day you told
me you loved me, the letters
and the flowers, the little
momentos and the way
you would stare into my
eyes and just whisper how
beautiful I was to you.
And since I would have
chosen to patiently walk
beside you through every
dark valley, had I been given
the chance, and loved you with
a quiet love, that lets you free
and lets you think, I have to
conclude that it was not I,
that destroyed this wonderful
gift, but you. You let go
of my hand and chose to
go through the war alone,
when you've always wanted
someone to know the very
depths of your wild heart,
We had seen bigger catastrophes
and weathered more treacherous
storms, but you through away
our love, and me, along with it.