Monday, November 07, 2011

Una Poesia

For M.M.H. ♥

What am I doing here
Nothing to show for all my sorrow
What proves I ever really existed
No one to give me just one bone-crushing hug
The kind you can collapse in
I so need one and yet there's no one
And somehow I mourn so deeply one
Who couldn't be that for me
The one true blue in all these years
The only one with the kindest words
The most selfless heart
The desire to please
Who showed his love with color and light
and wood and nails and paint
Though not bone-crushing hugs

And I didn't do enough
I never did enough
I never let myself consider doing
much of anything
He needs a project
Always a project
So self-sufficient
Never asked for help
And though I knew he needed some
I didn't offer
I just didn't
And now it's too late
And I knew it would be while I was in it
I saw this moment of guilt and grief
coming down the road
And still -- I did nothing
Until the point where I was forced
Not because I wanted to but because I had to
And everyone says "angel"
But I say "coward" and "creep"
and "user" and "narcissist"
Even though he'd have done it for me
No second thoughts
Bottles of piss cleaning my nails
feedings through straws
He'd lift me off the milkshake-cat-puke-covered floor
with his freakishly strong, painfully skinny arms
Without a single second thought
He'd lift me.

But I? Me? -- shook and fretted the whole time
Every touch another tear
Every caress across his brow guilt burning my skin
Every single minute still breathing is a new flame of terror
There are no flowers beneath my window this year
What color - you didn't tell me what color you want
Has he stopped yet
The breathing I mean.


He's gone now
Never coming home never never never
Name dying out -- gone for good
Evaporating with the heat of the cooling spotlight
And I'm all he had I'm what he got stuck with
And I wasn't enough
It wasn't fair
Seven years and I wasn't enough
"you were his angel"
bullshit shut up

Come home I want you to come home
Time to come home
Please come home
Release this
I can't feel this sick to my stomach anymore.

Somehow it's still about me.

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