She, who used to be me

16508678_1199541153428000_43660874740017778_nWhen you left I thought

you took the best of me with you

but the best of me

had long ago divested of your infernal penchant

to pull those you love apart

limb by limb

 

she

who used to be me

had jumped over the moon wearing rubber boots and a waterproof coat

she

who used to be me

had chopped her hair off and grown her hands long to climb up stairwells leading to stars

she

who used to be me

had regained her need to be respected and her love of dancing

in the arms of those

who unlike you

held her up and didn’t

make a career of pulling her down

 

you didn’t notice I was gone

my absence preordained by inaction

you’re a metal heart with no tab and a flat fizz

I used to be the first one out there

painting my eyes bright with scorch of life

now I’m the one you walk past

as you rush toward the crowd for succor

I find I have no want to be part of the cacophony

I want to exist outside your hunger for acclaim

in a place where recognition has no pew

maybe I should want to join in

but I was never one for cliques or even

prescriptive

we may live longer socializing

but who said I wanted to celebrate

my 100th birthday?

I was born to be still and listen to the wind

you always needed an audience

I hope you found someone to listen

to the hollow rattle of your dice

lending nothing to internal privation

we cannot manifest loving histories

or buy ourselves fans, we are the manifest

of our sum, we must live according to our truth

not the pulsation of greed and arrogance

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