Why do you hate me?
I gave you the best I could be.
That youthful lover can't appease
your need. You never even turned
around when both my knees sought
nothing but the ground. High-stepping,
you were dancing in the crowd.
Ranging round the center-point where
all that you could wish was my demise.
Gathering the riches of your vice.
Uncanny, how authority would always
pave the way when you sought entry
to another fairytale. So many ships
that left the shore but never learned
to sail. While here I sit, still grounded
in the mire of your mud, and you
pretend you're nothing but a stud.
I burnt our wedding pictures yesterday.
The children grew too old to want to stay.
I ground the ashes into meatballs and I ate.
Dysfunctional, I threw the rest away.
The silence longs to hold the pain at bay.
But I remember that it's over anyway.
The life, the love, the dreams are dead.
Your spirit weeps too loudly in my head.
The sorrow seeps into the weary bed.
Dreaming of catastrophe. The waking
sees it through. No longer can I fathom
what to do to make it better anymore.
It just moves on, the way you did.
The sky just fell. I caught my head.
Decapitation would be kind.
I fed the dog and cat you wouldn't mind.
Now I am blind. Looking out, the shadows
seeping in. Unkempt, I pour the cleaner
down the drain. No longer walking
in between the raindrops in the spring.
I fall into an autumn of extremes.
I love him so. I love him not.
The strain is flaring in my gut.
Growing like a rat that dines on cheese.
Some say our elder years should
bring us ease. I say it is a sin, the way
he teased and taunted goodness out of me.
He used me up in measures of degrees.
Then burnt our wedding vows in an
impassioned fire of desire. He never
dared to share the same with me.
This can't be me. Where am I that
I just can't seem to find another way...?
Playing games. He played to win.
And here I am, his utter loser yet again.
Trying to forget the memories.
Why does he hate me...?
I gave him the best I could be.
Last night I saw him walking down the hall.
Images to lead me to another hard felt fall.
It doesn't end. It just goes on.
Unanswered questions turned to misery...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2004 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .