Torn

I know you hear
My pebbles pinging on your window
And I know too
That you won't answer.
Or possibly that my impatience
Will not allow you the time.
Either way
I find myself in that all-too-familiar place
The place where I'm wandering and lost
Needing your help
Yet not getting my answer
Because you've got your own life to live
And me,
Well, I hang up after two rings,
I only throw a handful of pebbles,
I whisper my questions to you in crowded places.

Sometimes I wonder
If you are amused
At how I mask my fears with stubbornness
Fears you know all too well
But also know that I must face them alone.
Perhaps I, too, know this
Because if I really wanted your answers,
I'd simply work on my patience.

Instead I
Walk away,
Slam the phone against the wall,
And resent your inept lipreading skills,
Blaming you
For leaving me
To face these demons alone.

Yes, I know I never gave you the chance to save me.
I'm torn.
I've always been the 'saver'; then again so have you.
I just don't know how to save myself...
Or let you save me.