Thursday, December 3, 2009

POEM: a bigger house


veiled in that obvious way you often choose
when you are trying to hurt me
without claiming ownership
you were careless with my feelings
informing me that if we got a bigger house
you would need my help to keep it clean
like a patient father to his irresponsible child
you implied I don't pull my weight
clearly you are overburdened
doing more than your fair share
at your limit in this, our small house

later, with not a little bitterness
I foolishly pointed out that blue bucket
you left by the garage for months now
one among many items carelessly forgotten
left strewn out doors, for all to see
embarrassing to me, but not to you
snapping back, quickly, sharply,
the veil lifted now, the intent clear
a blow tossed at me with deliberate aim
wasn't it I, not you, that wanted a bigger house
yet thanks to me you have no time as it is now
to take care of all that needs doing in this
our smaller, seemingly less demanding home

Late now, I wonder if you will ever know
the things I do that go unseen, tho maybe few
they would be missed if I should stop
but then again, my messes are private
they don’t announce themselves loudly to others
or reveal the inner turmoil, the secret, ugly side
not like yours, out there glaring for all to see
yet you always manage to ignore your own
never looking underneath, where the dirt is ground in

today, of all days, you said mean things to me
you made me cry, catch my breath hard
forcing me to hide my tears from your cold heart
when I needed to see it beating kindly
tomorrow I let them pump poison in my veins
as you sit and hold my hand
chemicals meant to kill mutant cells
but which toxic venom is more destructive
or hurts me more? Which mess is easier
to sweep under the rug
and forget about?

POEM: Free Pass


You don’t get to judge me
you don’t get to blame me
you don’t get to direct me
or tell me how to be, how to feel
this isn’t about you
your feelings are your own providence

See, I have a "get out of jail free" card
a monopoly of deserving
it's only fair
I can show it to you
I’ll lift my shirt and you will see it
a violent gash, a deep, gnarled scar
it means you have to do what I need
or just stay away from me
and let me do whatever I must
in order to survive this

Because if I don’t survive this
you will have nothing left to judge
or to accuse me of, or complain about
anyway