Climbing Back, Day 12: The Flail
Originally Posted: June 12th, 2018
Our first anniversary
would've been this week.
All you had to do was work
with me to knead our futures out
together into a braid,
a chain maintained by our faith
in each other's power free
of the splintered trauma
we rubbed on our skin
our selves, our eyes, stained
with the rust of a cynic's vision,
I envisioned better for us
so did you until you made
me the enemy covered
in your ancient side-eyeing
enmity for manipulation,
All I wanted was for you to
be happy and feel like dying a little less,
I guess that's what you have
now that you've wiped the tar
of your soul off on me
got with the dollar store version of me
that you've called "pathetic,"
but now he's your everything,
another safety net to save you
while I was left holding the bag AGAIN,
Where was Tennyson when your ex
abused you, and you said to leave it alone
when I offered to teach him a lesson with
me and my closest friends?
Where was Tennyson when you fled Oregon
because you were stuck in a meth motel
waiting for your assault trial
with a spastic dog you didn't need?
Where was Tennyson through
all your tear-streaked calls on your way to CaliforniaÂ
after I worked double shifts to help you?
Where was Tennyson wading through
your relationship drama with that fucking
eunuch, to soothe your sexual frustrations?
Where was Tennyson when you
were in Cali with your former
crackhead girlfriend and struggling
to eat, get high, and not be homeless?
Where was Tennyson to get you across
the country because Erin couldn't stand you
do-nothing bitches?
Where was Tennyson to pay your airfare
to settle your court case where you hit
Eliot with a fan and not a flyswatter
like you repeatedly said,
Where were any of these people
as I watched you literally dying
in front of me to your heart, the killer?
Where were any of these niggas
who are clamoring to meet up
with you now that I'm gone?
Where were any of your so-called friends
as you suffered and burned?
They were offering wishes and prayers
while I put food in your stomach,
booze and drugs in your brain,
support in your heart,
dick in your ass,
All that earned me was
a knife in the back,
idiot monologues from Justin,
and spit in the face from you.
I'm wondering if you saw any
good from being with me,
fleeting beatings of the heart,
or am I another demon like the rest?
You expected all the patience
in the world from me and I
didn't even warrant a full year.
Did anything I did mean
anything to you?
Or was I another means to an end
that was your favorite until
my "stupid questions" and concern
annoyed you into abandoning me
after all that planning,
all that effort,
all that yelling,
all that grinding away,
all that self-loathing
all your encouragement
"not to hurt my boyfriend."
You twisted the awl
into me more than I ever could,
that's saying something
my sharp reward for burning my palms
to scoop you out of the fire.