Anger.
No point saying hurtful things, no? Only, frustration mounts and does not quell when one does not feel justified, vindicated and empowered to name her hurt. Blind oppressors, poor white men with burdens. It will be my condescension burning into your back where my love used to lie.
Only you can help yourself there.
Of course, you hands clean, obligation-free disaster. What else was I expecting from you? Other then the theatrics of your pain, oblivious to the trails of blood you leave behind. Not yours, for you only bleed from your eyes, and that's all you see.
I will slowly regain respect for myself again.
But I can't say the same about all the respect I've lost for you. Which is, everything. I remember clearly the moment when your words started to ring hollow in my ears: It was when I looked at your life, and thought to myself "Why would I ever want to be like that?". I'm only glad I didn't take your advice, I don't want to fuck up my life like you have with yours. And everytime you laugh at me for doubting you, I smirk a little on the inside and roll my eyes.
I pine now but I won't pine later. I will not be like her, bemoaning your absence, begrudging your silence anymore. Because this child's play isn't worth it, and I get paid more babysitting anyway. You tell me to grow up and I will. Unfortunately, I don't think you can. But fortunately, that won't be my loss. Thank God it was a mere 4 months, instead of, 8 years.
The only hurt you inflict on me now is the anger of not being recognized and legitimated. But that's ok. There will be a time when you will disappear from my horizon, when you will wall yourself up again in your hurt and find some other unsuspecting heart to dribble with.
Maybe we'll return, but right now all I can see myself saying is, "remember the hurt you caused? Well that's brought me this, but no thanks to you, really."
So a few more sleeps a few more days, we'll smile and be cordial and tender. Ad then the horrible end will come, better then horror without end. Which would be you. No one has ever treated me so badly, and no one ever will again.
God, you're such a jerk.
No point saying hurtful things, no? Only, frustration mounts and does not quell when one does not feel justified, vindicated and empowered to name her hurt. Blind oppressors, poor white men with burdens. It will be my condescension burning into your back where my love used to lie.
Only you can help yourself there.
Of course, you hands clean, obligation-free disaster. What else was I expecting from you? Other then the theatrics of your pain, oblivious to the trails of blood you leave behind. Not yours, for you only bleed from your eyes, and that's all you see.
I will slowly regain respect for myself again.
But I can't say the same about all the respect I've lost for you. Which is, everything. I remember clearly the moment when your words started to ring hollow in my ears: It was when I looked at your life, and thought to myself "Why would I ever want to be like that?". I'm only glad I didn't take your advice, I don't want to fuck up my life like you have with yours. And everytime you laugh at me for doubting you, I smirk a little on the inside and roll my eyes.
I pine now but I won't pine later. I will not be like her, bemoaning your absence, begrudging your silence anymore. Because this child's play isn't worth it, and I get paid more babysitting anyway. You tell me to grow up and I will. Unfortunately, I don't think you can. But fortunately, that won't be my loss. Thank God it was a mere 4 months, instead of, 8 years.
The only hurt you inflict on me now is the anger of not being recognized and legitimated. But that's ok. There will be a time when you will disappear from my horizon, when you will wall yourself up again in your hurt and find some other unsuspecting heart to dribble with.
Maybe we'll return, but right now all I can see myself saying is, "remember the hurt you caused? Well that's brought me this, but no thanks to you, really."
So a few more sleeps a few more days, we'll smile and be cordial and tender. Ad then the horrible end will come, better then horror without end. Which would be you. No one has ever treated me so badly, and no one ever will again.
God, you're such a jerk.
3 comments:
(Jarrett likes this)
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limits need to be set....dont lose yourself in it and get caught up hon. love u. only concerned cos u're sounding like me last yr......not good.
xx
ling
But Ling! Look at you now! you're great! I'll be great too. :) Right now I'm still madly in love. Till the moment I leave for newer heights, I'm stuck. At least I'll never have to see the fucker again. Or so i hope.
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