Freestylin'

My path each day takes me nearer to you than I care to be. I can feel your proximity in my skin, my puckered, tightened skin, and I loath to see your smiling face.  I don't care that you moved on, I don't want to know your schedule anymore, and I don't dare even ask to be left alone as it will only spiral up and out of control like a three-legged dog chasing it's fourth down a dusty street covered in broken glass. I see that you've sent me a text again.  I try to resist reading it and make the effort to simply delete it, send it off into the ether as any bad dream would be sent.  But I cannot.  I open the message and once again I am startled by your ignorance.  I am taken aback by your raw hate, your brown-stained panties waving at me from under the fur-covered skirt of your personality.  I cringe thinking about your longing to be free of my affections, of my support. I hear your nonsensical explanations for your disastrous invitation to leave, how I was so terrible, how my emotional insistences dragged your poor heart all over town as though it were an alley cat looking through garbage cans for something good to eat. Sustenance from waste.  That works, now.  The story of  a pre-broken marriage torn asunder by the chat-land blitzkreig, real-world hurt fueled through emotional piracy, and the cesspool of vandalized secrets comes to a crescendo, the voices so loud and the hurt so real that the walls themselves packed their daydreams into coffee cans and threw them into the waves of the last pool of water. Somewhere in the ride my feelings became good ice cream, sickly sweet and melted all around the edges, an undefined mass of swirled delight waiting to be tasted and pressed into the restraints of your abusive sugar cone, the controlling nod to your underdeveloped esteem.  I feel it now that I have some distance, but it still lives, crawling about the world we share as though it could change anything at all. It can't.  And while I have pondered our severance, I have passed through your gravity well and moved away from your infernal pull.  I am moving farther away and feeling my skin loosen, returning to calm. I am free of your hold, and I am eternally grateful for it.

fin




Written in a single breath and inspired by the talented and imaginative poets I saw on the Poetry Slam Inc. website.  Oh to be so free.