I wallow in your despondency,
cringe within your fear, and
cry endless tears in empathy
for your thoughts so austere,
having wounded my hopes,
trampled my heart,
how do I let go what for me was love
from the start.
Your blade coloured,
bruised by fantasy,
and blame the scabbard
of you malicious decree,
and I still connected, down on my knees,
while you carve up my sins,
let blood flow in revelry.
What can part hearts,
even amid contention,
your pain is my pain,
not by will but an extension,
yet you feel nothing but disdain,
as you blame and grind my bones,
hone a new life without me,
even if you are alone.
Slipping, this will to hold on to your pleas,
even when I know you will suffer, and bleed,
for delusion is fraught with shard barbs,
hooks in recompense, tear at you heart,
until you see light beyond darkness,
self-pity in such starkness relents,
and perhaps eventually the truth
will impart its last breath.
Now I must take leave,
allow a reprieve to deliver me,
and watch as you slowly implode,
discover the ruse you so deliberately owed yourself,
in some rationale of life’s owing,
a seed long know for its sewing,
that brought you to delusions of need,
sadly, for me to succeed, and you to fall.
Tony DeLorger © 2018
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