i’ve grown past thinking he was evil.
I loved a three dimensional hologram-
i know that much,
and when his fuckshit behaviour
tore me to pieces,
I know a part of him suffered too.
I’ve grown past the naivety
of thinking that love
is anything more than a snapshot.
An experience planted between
that as soon as they spill,
devastate their soil.
I know now, love was more a negotiation
the table was my bedroom,
my blood filled a vial,
as he signed the contract
of my paper-thin dignity.
I ceased to exist when it became ‘We’
cause I always
sold myself shorter than I stood.
Built myself smaller than him
so he didn’t stumble on a
that brewed and boiled over in tar
every night he fell asleep
The value he assigned
to my imminent alarm clock devastation
never seemed to add the fuck up,
it was least to my surprise,
when he eventually decided
to turn the contract into an origami.
I felt it too,
the moment his voice echoed
over all the nothingness he spewed
before devising an escape plan
so poorly constructed,
i felt ashamed to love a coward.
i blamed him for months upon end.
all other sweat-laced possessions.
i swole and starved:
with no shelter from the demons that
stung my bloodstream.
gasoline thoughts smoked my brain
and finally when my boils erupted
and spewed in failed predictions
he was acres away
with distant convictions
no love spell could ever break.
I had pavlov-ed the shit out of the boy;
conditioned him to believe that
I equalled love, and
Love equalled whatever liberated him.
Gave him makeshift wings and
the flew the distance.
there were no culprits for
the murder of my love,
just as there are no blueprints
for the right one.
there was no evil in my lover,
for my lover was not mine.
to begin with.