Poem to a Lover, Mid-Fight
A Tale of Temper, Anger, and Intentional Silence
No chance to say anything,
So you don’t get to hear my words.
You’re elevated over silence,
Pointy phrases dropping like mouse turds.
It’s no wonder,
You’re so easy to lose your temper.
It’s got to be lonely,
If you refuse to attemper.
Why would I keep giving chances?
When small things remain unowned.
Why would I keep giving chances?
When you can’t even apologize when you get home.
Of course, I dogged your kiss.
There were more important things to cover.
It’s not about making you feel good now,
When will you discover?
A red light, a flag…
was raised today.
Instead of stepping back to observe,
You word-vomited and pushed me away.
Now you’re calling my name from the other room...
Acting as though nothing has occurred.
“What good is silent treatment going to do?”
You don’t even know the massacre.
How silly to assume,
The silence is to get back at you.
How juvenile it is…
*music plays from the phone in other room*
POINT ENSUES.
Instead of recognizing your actions,
And fully owning them…
You sit on a coach,
On another Instagram or music bend.
Why not have just shut the fuck up
The moment you knew…
If something is off with your partner
You see and hear them first, boo.
Don’t call me “love”
I’m not into cute pet names.
call me Rebecca…
And no, she’s not into games.
This is a game.
One big-ass joke.
A story unfinished,
About a never-learning bloke.
You’re still talking,
Even now as you stand before me.
You haven’t once been quiet,
For me to think you’d change?
So silly.
