© Susi Franco

I was watching TV, thinking about
When I first loved you
When it still mattered enough to me to worry if
I was enough for you
When I didn't loathe you for neglecting me hourly.
I think of when I adored every word that fell from your lips
Instead of wishing with all my heart that I could poke out your eyes with a ten-penny nail
Every time you opened your
I-am-the-Center-of-the-Universe-I-Know-Everything-and-You-Don't mouth.

I think of how I admired you before
I learned your propensity for lying and cowardice
Not even having enough character to admit you are a liar…
Learned that you have no honor and no integrity…
Learned it through watching you lust after my own daughter
As though I am so profoundly stupid as not to see it.
Learned it through suffering your endless searches for old girlfriends that Cringe at the mention of your name.
As though they would have you back, and somehow redeem
Your historic non-human triple ply, thousand mil insensitivity.
( I have often pondered whether it is truly insensitivity, or just your being
So wrapped up in yourself that you cannot interact successfully
With another sentient being, like a conch trapped in its' own coiled shell…
And I suppose
In the final analysis, it does not matter
Which it is…)

I think of how the desire burned in me for you
Until you smothered it utterly
making me seethe with bitter acid rage
For the humiliation of daily rejection
You serve upon me
Like cold greasy bacon and beans
Choking the throat,
Twisting the gut, clogging the ability to eliminate toxins from the body.

I think how I used to think I was pretty
Before you
And your endless self-absorbed gawking at other women
Never caring that most men look at me that way, too
Never caring that most men would consider themselves fortunate
And even blessed
To call me their own.

I think how you used to hold me, make love to me
Make me come over and over
And then explode in me yourself
Whispering to me
Saying all the things a woman needs to hear
From the man she cherishes and loves..
And then I think of how you avoid lovemaking the last year
Until you've experienced your once every two month arousal by online porno Or some tits-and-ass TV show
And then awkwardly climb in bed in the dark, awaken and paw me,
Jump on me
Giving me the usual three minutes of breast mashing, two minutes of clumsy rubbing between my legs, abruptly entering and
Stroking until you lose interest, telling me you're just "too tired" to finish.
Being so disconnected from me that you cannot even feel
The larceny in my heart towards you,
So disconnected
That you cannot sense in me the phenomenal fatigue of
Having you swell my withered hope once again,
Only to viciously dash its' brains piteously on the rocks
One More Time
Never sensing the fiery anger just lingering there
At the edge of my restraint
Ignited by intolerable razor sharp disappointment
Sizing up that weakening fence separating Love from Hatred
Gruesomely patient,
Grinning
Waiting for the occasion of
The Last Straw.

I think of when my world began and ended with your smiles.
When no task was too much
If it meant pleasing you.
Now, I cannot stand to even hand you a beer.

I look in the mirror, and I feel old because I see so much hurt
In my eyes looking back at me.
If I could have any wish, any wish at all,
Other than wishing good health back to those I love who are ill
My next wish would be
That I could just disappear from your life
Forever
And never have to look at you again,
Never again have to endure the agony ...the unbearable crushing weight...
The suffocating, joy-stealing burden
of feeling
Inadequate, stupid, old, fat, ugly ...ad nauseum, ad infinitum
To the tenth power.

I sit on the edge of the bed at five am, head buried in my hands, so bone-weary From not sleeping,
From never being able to let my body rest
And I wonder what the date will be
What hour it will occur
When I finally
Stop
Loving
You.

I keep wrestling with this concept:
How love and sorrow can occupy the same dwelling
Knowing
Hoping that frustratingly immortal Hope
That
One will surely extinguish the other
With Time.

Some day....
My need not to feel so hurt every waking hour, and even in troubled dreams...
Will exceed any obligation I have felt
To Love You….
When the urge to self-preserve will finally outgrow whatever it is
That keeps me with you….
When I no longer cling to the flimsy
Fast-fading notion that
You will awaken, realize the pain you have engraved on my heart
And begin the arduous task of mending it…
Begin to really
See me.
The time approaches,
Creeping steadily like a dark cancer
That I will no longer
Be able to
Forgive you.

I am preparing.
My liberation is
Gaining
Momentum.