i know you are not good for me.
Yet, I believe I need you as much as I need the various organs that keep me functioning
As every poem I pen for you,
It leaks out my every liquid inside.
Blood. Sweat. Strange and deadly water that pours like a deep seated poison ravaging inside of me.
I have one blind eye to your faults
But one eye clothed with silk, on fire
As you constantly blame me
For dissension, a mix of waffled, plain fear.
favors turn into quinces,
Lemon colored and tart.
I know you can't give me what I want,
But all I wanted was to be seen
And seen by you.
I give you my everyday, every moment,
Every year.
You give me space, space, space,
The terrible things that punish me.
Are you my friend or I am your accountant?
To take stock of your every woe and eat it inside of my guts
A veritable feast of indigestion.
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Comments (7)
A vile tone and imagery! Impactful writing Melissa!! 👏👏😔
Oh God. This was so heartbreaking and relatable. This is how narcissists are. Loved your poem!
I really love the way you used phrases like 'one blind eye'. The MC felt as if they were breaking apart into bits. This is so impactful!
Ah, that constant struggle to discern how to be there for someone else, balancing the need for connection with the need for independence, how to meet the needs & wants of another without either smothering them or losing ourselves. If you ever figure out how not only to give but also receive this, please let me know, my friend, for I remain clueless. May you find yourself to be seen & graced with all your heart needs to know that you are loved.
❤️❤️💕
Creative & impressive!!! Loving it but not the indigestion!!!❤️❤️💕
This is so clever, your words flowed with ease.