Another poem

“The tables have turned now,

               haven’t they?”

Around in circles,

               going nowhere.

Everything changes;

               yet so much is the same.

“I’m impossible,

I’m a mess,”

                I say.

“Come love me!”

Yet nothing is ever good enough.

               No one is ever good enough.

Yet You came.   

               In perfection, complete.

You tell me you love me

               on top of a mountain.

               High.

From here there is nowhere to go

               but down.

Left in crushing loneliness-

No one told me this was coming.

Grasping at straws-

Empty.

                        

(Only You can satisfy my inner needs.)