PRIDE
I continue to move ahead
Mechanical in my ways
Never thinking of your eyes
Or wishing you had stayed.
Pride is always with me,
Always am I in its state
But, it seems, that pride happens
To be a cold bedmate.
But what Pride is this, I pray
That befalls me here?
That goes into my heart and soul
And sheds a lonely tear?
But what Pride is this that leaves me
Aching in my bed?
Night after night I lay
Awake but feeling dead?
What Pride is this, in my sleep,
That unveils your face to me?
Leaving me wondering about
What it is I see?
And what Pride is this,
That jerks my hand
And makes me lift this pen?
What Pride is this that has me always
Writing about men?
-Rachel