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jane
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this is not something i want to be thinking
about. i'd like to listen to ballads &
blues without thinking of your ballads, &
your blue eyes. the decision is difficult
already, & this is with limited information.
i wish decisions were easier, but then i
suppose life would be boring. it was me who
said it so many months ago - people forget
how exhilerating grief can be. talk about
digging my own grave - tying myself to the
mast. ready to set sail once again, my
ocean. my sea. my blues.
was it ever really up to me? did i ever
have the power of decision? its only been a
few months, & we have no obligation towards
each other. what if it was 14 years, & i,
like my mother, decided to walk away? what
an empowered woman. i get slapped in the
face & plead you to stay.
you said it, & i'm pretty sure you believe
it. you're going to do what you're going to
do. you're afraid of how i'm feeling. but
isn't that just another way of saying you're
afraid of how you're feeling? because
nothing can happen unless the feelings are
mutual. my heart is quaking my heart is
quaking. you see nothing but a mirror.
nothing but yourself.
you're talented, you say. youre amazing,
incredible. i want to keep you close.
you hurt me, i said. makes me not want to
be close.
so maybe your plan didn't backfire. you got
to push me away like everyone else, like
your 5 former fiancees, like sara. you say
youre an asshole, you act the part, & then
you get away with everything with the 'i
told you so' defense. when are you going to
stop hiding behind your persona & just let
yourself be a coward? i saw you cry. i
felt your tears where my neck meets my
shoulder, where your lips touched my hair &
i could barely stand with you leaning &
sobbing on me. & yet you're afraid of how i
feel. did you ever once have to pick me up
off of the floor & tuck me in bed? no. it
was never that intimate for you. it would
be breaking character.
how dare i threaten you with the thought of
losing me? nothing means anything to you.
not even your music anymore - you're about
to give up on that too. dali needs to be
bathed. you even neglect yourself by being
dishonest - unless you're on some sort of
drugs (which has been more & more often
lately).
what a fool i was to let you stick your foot
in the door. & for what? so you could hold
it open while you went & twisted some other
doorknob. did she drink from your faucet,
baby? did you let it flow warm & deep down
your throat, the way you once did for me? &
did she sit on your face, grinding into your
tongue? did you get her off the way you
couldn't with me? i'm sure i made you feel
like a failure, instead of being the
challenge that so many have attempted to
overcome.
i have neglected myself. feeling like a
guilty catholic if i want someone to kiss
all my lips, to draw their fingers down my
hips & grab me closer. to throw me through
a wall with passion. you never slammed me
down on the bed & engorged yourself in me.
i was not wanted, did not stimulate enough
for you to lose control. why was it so
different with her - did she run a tongue
stud up & down your body, stopping right
next to the spots with concentrated nerve
endings. did you look into her eyes & know
you had the power to make her cry? i'm sure
you did. something you're good at, i
suppose. i've never cried so much than when
i'm with you.
part of me wishes i had restrained myself
then, so crying now would be more of a
surprise, maybe for once you would actually
worry, & not think in your head that i am
just some little girl who cries at the drop
of a dime. tonight my heart explodes.
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051002
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