Adventures in Rediscovery

So.

I wrote a version of this poem a long while ago and have recently rediscovered what it meant. And while I'm not necessarily a fan of the sentiment, I am a fan of the piece. Again thanks to Kholi and Chriss for being the kind of friends that write poems with me.
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this moment is repetition

we stand still,
refusing to trust ourselves,
gathering
facts like lies
like seashells,
searching for fullness amidst broken pieces,
placing points together with
the futile hope
that
something
will be again

made whole.

bound as we are,
we grasp for memories,
our opinions of self,
listless mosaics
of alter-reason-
thick resentment.
unsure what is what
or
where
or
which belongs to whom
just needing to
hope to see them stay,
hesitantly defining our needs against
the insufficient
provisions of another,
comparing bounties with no real expectations
of bona fide treasures.

i scatter my collection at your feet:

i have been lying here nearly 300 days
fact

waiting
fact

for you to make mutual sacrifice
fact fiction.

with every shallow breath I tense
each smile, a trinket, charm, a check yes on the
letter Ive written to you and hidden
in my heart

I am lying here
Waiting

becoming all you never asked me to
those things to which you’ve merely shown a preference
I am your made bed and all the trash cans emptied and
breakfast made to meet your rising
I have been a rough and hot
meeting in the dark
or on the floor
where I have been lying here …

I see all i wish for us
fact
in you:
fiction

the promise of peace and safe and home, and me,
fact
never to be broken again
fiction

i will never leave.
fact.

we're grownups now
fact, fiction
we know more than the bittersweet
fact
we know better
fiction

i think “us” will never bear a love poem
fact

i can learn to be ok with that
fiction