Richard Cowan Burton
We Shared Everything
We shared the same side of the bed, and we shared the same dreams when we laid our heads.
We shared the same fears, and sometimes the same awful piercing life screams,
We shared a smile, a look, and a feeling for each other, that made us work.
We shared the truth, and occasionally lied to one another; it was for and in love, nothing other
We shared time that seemed to fly away and stand still with joy.
We shared the same tub, the same sink, and the same toilet seat,
We could never keep enough toilet paper in the house; we laugh and pointed at someone else—
We shared the same passion, the same need,
and the same honesty, and the same loyalty.
We shared touch, and we shared kiss,
We shared caresses, and we shared and tasted each other and each other’ lips.
We shared whispers, and we shared secrets,
We shared our souls, and we shared our life’s—
We shared tears, and we shared our excite
We shared the same closet.
And wore each-others’ favorite t-shirts, hoodie’s, PJs, and sweats,
We shared popcorn, pizza, Chinese, and the same crazy fish.
We shared TV, music, and the same couch when we wept,
We shared the same air, the same smokes, and the same personal and intimate effects.
We shared the light, and we shared the darkness,
We shared the rain on the windows, the snowflakes on the ground, and the sun in the sky.
We shared the seasons, and sometimes, all four of them happened in one single day –
We shared the beautiful morning and evening glows,
We shared the car, the phone, and the bills, and washed each-others’ clothes.
We shared the chores, and we shared respect—
We shared morning breath, body odor, sleepy sand filled eyes, yet, it never stopped us because we still shared true, heart-felt love and compliments.
We shared our talents, and we shared our faults
We shared the same large cup of coffee as we prepared for the new day.
We shared colds and flu’s,
We shared back scratches, holidays, and rubbed each other’s stinky toes.
We shared books, and we shared soap
And we shared our hope, and things couldn’t have been any better, or more wonderful.
...and then we shared a moment of jealously, of despair, and woe— and from there...
We shared a silence that never was ours—
Then we shared accusations and disbelief,
Then we shared lies, and we shared truths,
Then we shared insults and distance, which led to too many incidents.
Then we shared unpleasant and excruciating time together that seemed to last forever.
Then we shared angry words, vicious blows, a mental and physical pain that seemed endless.
Then the same rage, humiliation, and shame—
Then we pointed at each other and blamed
It spiraled, and spiraled, and spiraled down into more blame.
Until finally one day we put aside our anger and distance... and we shared something that we thought was out of existence…
That we stopped sharing or finding anything of love with each other ever again. That’s the day I hate the most—
The day we stopped finding love and common ground.
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(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
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(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
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Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
(10 February 1970-)
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