he loves me

he loves me not

he loves me

he loves me...not

I.

run

run further.

anywhere just to escape this dreaded room.

filled with flowers so ready to bloom.

II.

climb

climb further.

you're almost at the top of the cliff.

no one will find you if you are swift.

III.

lean

lean further.

stare into the deep ocean abyss.

simply longing for his dead, cold kiss.

IV.

stare

stare further.

doesn't the moons dancing light look pleasant?

as it sings to you in the shape of a crescent.

V.

cry

cry further.

the tears will fall in the ocean too.

as sirens cold grasps keep them safe for you.

VI.

think

think further.

a midnight swim doesn't sound too bad.

surely they know it's only because you're sad.

VII.

late

too late.

crashing down you go.

the railing won't keep you from what's below.

VIII.

fall

fall further.

now you know how it feels to fly.

silently through the deep night sky.

IX.

crash

crash further.

the cold water pierces you, as you fall from rather high.

i'm sorry to say, but it's too late for good bye.

X.

die

die further.

it's simpler this way.

i'm sure he'll just forget you someday.

... i love you

he will say,

petal in hand

maybe he will mourn on your funeral day?

The greatest insult known to man

Is to believe that he simply can't understand

Due to his color, race, or creed

There's no way in hell that he can possibly concede

Judging someone upon my perception

Can quite often lead to misconception

I cannot know how you think, or feel

To think that I do, is quite surreal

If I judge you based upon what my eyes see

Then I insult myself and who I could be

This kind of thinking is oh so inane

An open mind is the key, to allow you to explain.

How dare you imply that I tried to take financial advantage of my mother’s home in her last years!

How dare you accuse me of more-or-less stealing from her!

Why was it so damned important that I not be told how much money was in Mom’s money market account? I told you that you could have it, regardless of the will. Did you think I would “demand a share”?

Unlike, you – my sociopathic siblings – I TRULY LOVED MOM. I actually wailed and sobbed when one of you “texted” me about her passing. As with the death of Dad, I never saw a tear drop from the other of you. My heart is broken. I don’t give a shit about money.

Now, Mom can’t be hurt by the actions I must take to protect myself from your lack of empathy, scapegoating and cruel judgement of me. I am cutting the toxic ties – don’t ever darken my life, again.

It is time for me to grieve, heal, and take another path . . .

I began the year with depresison.

I have every year for years.

Without friends.

Distanced from my faimily.

Work my only friend.

And then you showed up.

You shook me up.

You turned my life upside down.

It went from gray-scale to vibrantly colourful in a matter of weeks.

You changed me.

You gave me be a new perspective on life.

I fell in love for the first time.

My year flew past.

It was a flurry of happy moments and love and conflict and resolution.

It was almost perfect.

Almost as nothing is ever perfect.

Fall arrived.

You were so stressed.

I pushed and you ran.

I loved and you turned away.

You left me.

It was miscommunication.

You were unwilling to try again.

You dropped what had blossomed and bloomed.

It was mendable.

It wasn't to you.

I became the optimist.

You became the pessemist.

I faded away again.

Into the background where I had begun

The most intesnse and wonderful experience in my life.

It left me broken.

Fall faded into winter.

Everything was grey.

The weather mirrored my mood.

Snow piled up as I shut everything out.

And then the year was over.

The happiest year of my life.

And the saddest.

"Mommy... When will dad come back?"

I could almost clearly remember the exact tone and pitch of my innocence.

"Never, son."

My mom was blunt, and my child self was okay with that.

"Good."

I said to myself snapping out of my trance to when I was a kid, remember the young adult I am.

I was standing there cooking potatoes at a restaurant, the same restaurant my dad works at.

He was washing dishes that day, and it took my all not to approach him and tell him who I was.

I glared at the fat, hunched over piece of shit who was my father.

"He better never."