I refuse to write about you for a lifetime
so I think I will write of you one last time.
I wrote for far too long of the last one I loved,
and my lesson was learned, and enough is enough.
I am sure that I will still think of you often,
and often wonder if you’re thinking of me.
I hope your memory of me is not selective,
selecting the three of four things I said wrong
forgetting the hundreds or thousands of things
that I said that you needed to hear and never heard,
words that made you feel cherished for the first time.
Sadly you’re a sad and angry person
who likes sad and angry music
and in that sad and angry town
you’re right at home, and it makes me angry.
I’ve never felt residual anger before,
but even my anger I’m turning into art
because in order to move forward
I need a new place to start.
I tried to take you out of the darkness,
but you fled from my light back into the hole
that I fear you will never crawl out of;
I was left chasing my tail when I tried chasing the rabbit.
I tried facing the madness, now I’m embracing the sadness,
in time I’ll be pacing with gladness, blood racing with passions…
with the emission of persistence that you couldn’t fathom.
You are easy on the eyes and difficult upon the soul,
they say misery loves company, of you she has a solid hold.
You’re a succubus who up and crawled out of the water
with a smile on your face, holding hands with your daughter
and you walked up to me, and tried pulling me under,
with the moon in your eyes, all disguised as a wonder.
It’s a wonder I wandered with you in the wilderness,
bewilderment is all that was left once you left me,
I wonder why people who love me desert me…
the truth we both know is that you never deserved me.
In truth we both know that you could one day have earned me.
Some stars are too burnt out to glow,
some flowers are too worn down to grow.
You are everything beautiful, you just don’t let it show,
and despite my disdain I still want you to know.
In truth I hope the smoke keeps numbing your pain,
but it’s a temporary fix and it’s dumbing your brain.
A lifetime of love is what I brought to the table…
but for your scattered brain that was too good and stable.
I was ready for a happy lifetime together,
but you called the game off because of the weather
foolishly trusting a forecast of storms
when the truth is my heart is still sunny and warm.
Loser is as loser does,
won’t pay their rent, but they’ll pay for drugs
won’t hit the gym, but they’ll hit the bong…
you should spend less time coughing and more in song
because your voice, from what I’ve heard, is beautiful
not that you use it, but I just thought you should know.
Yeah I’m bitter, you’re the quitter,
I was honest, you were toxic,
I give loving, you give nothing,
my life’s changing, yours is the same thing.
You’re a big bad wolf who tried blowing my house down,
instead I sold it for a profit, I’m not letting myself down.
Have fun living this life as a single mother,
or settling for some townie who mistreats you like the others.
You ruined a whole fucking state for me,
but the aftermath is working out great for me.
I listened to your stories of abuse and helped placate,
but when I told you of mine I got a notice to vacate.
The first person I told, thanks for opening that door,
and then slamming it in my face as my tears hit the floor.
You’ve never learned to relax and I honestly pity you,
but in time I will find that I’m glad to be rid of you.
I hope your dreams and hypotheticals hold you tightly at night,
despite the wrong you have done, I hope you strive to do right.
Your potential is endless, you just bottle it up
and make choice after choice that make your life more tough.
I hope that in due time you learn to love yourself
because aside from your daughter, you love no one else.
You gave me cuts from sea glass and for that I am grateful,
but you won’t turn my sweet soul into salty and hateful.
And I guess if to me you have nothing left to say,
then I’ll bid you farewell, I won’t see you next Tuesday.
I hope that one day you come out of your shell
and stop choosing to live in that old living hell.
These are the last words I’ll write about you,
the ink on my arm says I’m starting anew.
I helped fix your glasses, though I prefer you without them
because your eyes are so lovely, and please never doubt them.
You are everything beautiful and you’re a beautiful bird,
you do not trust in much, but you can trust in my words.
You’re a wonderful mother with strength and resilience,
others often overlook it, but I saw your brilliance.
Become the woman that we both know you can be,
the photographer, the artist, the happy, the free.
Although you’ve caused pain and anger I will end this with love,
find peace, learn to breathe, and fly free you sweet dove.
I refuse to write about you for a lifetime