CHOICE OF CHAIRS

When hurt,
I choose to sit in soft chairs.

I smile outwardly.

I sulk inwardly.

I am a stuffed chair
in a stuffed room.

I sit here with the hope
you’ll come and say,
“It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

Will you?

I’m still waiting.

It hasn’t happened yet.

I guess stuffed chairs hide their feelings
better than hard wooden chairs.

Or am I being stupid?
Am I simply being stubborn?

Why don’t I just get up and walk over
to you in your chair and say,
“I’m sorry this happened. Let’s next.”

© Andrew Costello,

Reflections, 2009