Maybe Another Day

Yes, there's a story here. It's not over, so I can't really tell it. The following poem-ish thing was written in the moment...but the moment changes...and I have no idea what it will be in an hour, or tomorrow, or next week. When it's all played out, maybe I'll tell you about it. But not until then, because I don't want to waste words.
~~~~~~~~~~

Oh, love...

I was in a creative place,
A hopeful place
Looking to a day not too distant
When I would dare to spread my wings
Throw myself from the cliff
And soar

I was in that dreamy
Half-awake
Half-asleep place
Where I believed I could
And wanted to
Succeed

Floating, I came
And spoke of maybe, and time,
And effort
Of looking at tomorrow a little differently

And oh, you couldn't know
How thoroughly you deflated me
With bitter words

How well you broke the nascent joy
Into tiny pieces
Dusty particles of
I can't do it
It won't do any good

Your hammer
Was someone else's words
Deeds
But you swung unconsciously well

So that one misbehaves,
Is selfish, careless
Cruel

And I suffer

Broken wings