|
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.
|
|