Frustrated Conversations

Lying cooped up inside the house,
Thoughts running in my head,
With arguments and words being thrown about,
All they want to do is scream and shout,

It’s not about what they say per se,
It’s about the way they say it,

The anger, the frustration, targeted more at themselves,
And vented at the other,
What makes it so bad, I wonder,
The connections, the reasons, the love,

How do they all disappear?
Or were they never there?

It’s more to do with the state of minds,
A word-play that no one understands,
The contexts that give meaning to the word,
Left unsaid in the hope of being understood,

False is that hope,
For rarely is the unsaid heard,
The frustration only mounts,
Until it all bursts,

Amidst this routine,
Stark realizations are found,
For it is the things that are not,
Which we wish were abound,

Each night passes, and a new day begins,
They’ve forgotten what happened,
And anew they live,

The memories that haunt me now,
They’ve already moved on,
And now I realize, that I too should go on,

Take things as they come,
There’s no need to over-analyze,
Worry doesn’t do you any good,
Being will do just fine.