once again, the fragile child finds herself holding onto locks of hair, wet-eyed and listless wondering what went wrong. had i been the witness to your legal contract i would have told you it was wrong, and that the only thing left to the alter was a god with no name who i questioned in your rejection. i am sorry i was a loose-limbed soldier in your undercover wandering, that i pretended to be stronger than i was in weary-waiting. i didn't think i'd found you then, but now i see you gone. to be gone is always more romantic.

later, i will find myself whiskey drowned and bitter, speaking ill of you. i will feel bad about it when i'm alone but i won't apologize. it is my way to feel wronged and prosper. cradling an old t-shirt of yours, the grey one that's been lying around, i'll be sure to remember the taste of your sperm, the warm hip-bone embrace at night's end, how you'd look before sleep, your faded dismay, kissing letters into your spine.

it's true. i wish not to remember your fingers interlaced with mine, and your more private lover. i want to think of you as feeble and unholy and have it be a bad thing. to see/hear the things i've already spoke outloud is such a fall of stature. i am not as quiet as you made me out to be, i see you cursing me now with little will to change.

was it a question of substance? i am not a tyrant to your depth. i asked only mild suffering and still i find you parading parties with your dumb-glare power. again you find me drunk and knee-deep sorrowful. it's not what i said is it? it's that you already have her and she is easier to control. i wanted you for everything about me i was too tired to work out. the things you had made more perfect just by touching.

well, midas, i am sorry for a lot of things, but i will not wear that sleepy smile. you wanted me less demented in a clean dress, but i will always be that clutching, grieving, screaming sort of beautiful you once saw in me. i think you'll want me in your marriage, that you'll compare me to her when you fuck her, and that in the end, you'll be glad you ran away from me because, in all the glorified ways i can tell you that i'm ready we both know i would have killed you.

06/14/2009

Posted on 06/15/2009
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