Bones in my Inbox

I no longer hold against you
your sub par love
I know you only learned how to treat me
by watching me
and I had that habit of
putting myself last,
giving you more room,
gathering to myself my flourishes
and feathers so you might feel safer,
so next to me could feel
more like home to you.
I thought by making myself lighter
you’d be compelled to trust me
with the gravity of the battles you carry,
the trophies from the demons
you’d slain to cross a desert’s
worth of ancestral blood.
I did everything right
you could sculpt perfection
from the sum of my sacrifices.
I was a nobody, I was nowhere
you touched me whenever you wanted
and none of me stained
I cleared the way, minimized my needs
so that my future could be
your blank slate, your life’s stage
but you never danced for me
you never sang for me
all those spotlights on you
and you never saw me
and in the end I begged but
you had made up your mind to be free of me
and the world had only gotten smaller
for you since then
but you never got the irony

and now you see me loving myself
loving a love that doesn’t require
erasing myself,
being unapologetic for my wild self,
my loud self, being unafraid
to leave where I am not
adequately wanted

and suddenly you want me?
suddenly you spare no grand,
sweeping stroke in expressing
the devotion you offer me
suddenly you’re dismantling
the performance you’ve built
just to get me to reconsider

please don’t disrespect the lesson
it’s no longer 2007
and I’m no longer stupid

you learn how to treat me
by watching me

stop watching me

2 thoughts on “Bones in my Inbox

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