Domestic

You will never get the apology you want.

It’s not that he is incapable of crafting

such a thing.

He can utter a handful of heartfelt phrases;

you fall for them

because your words carry weight, and

you expect his to be true.

He will never be 

what you wish for him:

gentle, kind, understanding.

He is blinded by his own rage

and suffering.

Cast out the dreams of what could be,

and allow him to withdraw from 

your thoughts.

He no longer deserves a place

in your mind, nor in your heart.

These places are sacred,

and he is a wolf, slavering

at your pity, playing on 

compassion, pursuing you, 

only as his prey.

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Rally My People

It does not matter if you loved me,

or if you love me still. 

You can call

to my window. 

I will not hear you.

I spent hours in my fortress,

wondering if you felt anything 

other than the most shallow 

form of affection. When 

I needed you, you did not answer.

Deaf to me, my muse had become.

I embody my own

Lady of Shallot, peering from her perch.

Weaving for no greater purpose,

seeing you only from the corners 

of my eyes, contorted reflection,

never as you were.

Half-sick, I tried to call to you,

but you did not heed my cry.

It was then my mirror shattered,

frustration and anger, its 

demise.

No longer do I wait and watch,

nor listen for your voice.

I await the death of love.

Rally what you can, 

but do not hope.

As for my people, 

I have none.

Down the Rabbit Hole

I can’t support what you love,
and you can’t support your
claims to love me.

It’s like falling
forever, falling asleep
while falling, and waking up
still set toward nadir,
place of darkness
I so often inhabit.

It’s such a long journey,
I thought you might
try to catch me, break my
descent–you didn’t.
You pushed me away.

I needed you to pull me
from the pit,
and, for a fleeting moment,
seemed you might, but then
your lover called you, you
forgot your vows, and
I  watched your face,
that I had seen
so many times above
my own,
shrink into nothingness,
and fade out of view.

How I longed for you to
love me,
and I loved you so much
more than
I could even love myself,
and you took my affections
and twisted it,
some monster.

I felt the dull knife break
between the columns
of my bleak spine,
painful separation,
yet somehow
somewhat expected.

And though my ego took a dive,
you should know, the betrayal never
hurt as bad as realizing that
the fantasies were better
than our reality ever was.

I wonder back to that
character who looked at
his family and wondered
at what point he would have
to forsake his family,
and look to himself for survival.

At what point
do I save myself?
At what point
do I grow?

Fly Away

Her eyes drowned him
in absinthe shades,
foretelling a beguiling
beginning, but
he drank her in,
savoring her silouette
growing calmer
in her presence.

He could have
kept her, had he
learned her song,
but he was consumed
by shallow puddles.

When Zephyrus offered
his mighty gale,
he adamantly declined,
claiming reliance on creative
gusts could stifle his own
message.

But she was swept up
in an instant, gladly
riding the west wind,
and left behind the boy
who drowned,
forsaking love
for wisdom.

The essence of a fool

When I don’t understand something,
make fun of it
because laughing is
so much more rewarding than actually
thinking about how my words affect others.
Words are just words.
I religiously defend monogamy,
and just as adamantly deny the use of love and connection.
Gentleness is weakness in disguise,
and double standards are somewhat
of a specialty of mine.
Also, I will use your emotions against you,
and ask you not to feel around me,
because it makes me uncomfortable to
know that something I did upset you.
I love everyone, but they don’t know how to correctly love me.
Constantly, I will try to sound wise,
offering, people suffering around me
me.
Narcissism prey to vanity, and they will flock to me,
bleeding praise because I breathe and eat the same bullshit
everyone else is using.
Hashtags, swag, and condescension,
because everyone should think what I think,
and no one should think I am not funny.