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In a gutter overflowing with
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CRACK!
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pretenders, perverts and philanderers,
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The palm of your right hand makes contact with my left cheek.
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I hoped to find a strange bedfellow,
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“You fucking asshole! “ I scream and flail backward,
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if only for a night or two.
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panicked, looking for an escape route.
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In a quest, likely doomed from the beginning,
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I have been here before
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I sought a temporary savior
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except not in my own home.
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in a lair of cheats and liars.
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Not in my own fucking home!
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Spurred on by the smell of burning picket fences,
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“But you like to be hit” you say,
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I really didn’t care whether my search proved successful
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as if this forgives your attack.
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…or not.
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Instead, it proves you don’t understand me at all
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Instead,
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Why are you still here? (Why have I let you stay?)
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I found a diamond in the rough,
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You invaded my heart, my home, my privacy, my deepest secrets
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except the rough isn’t so very and the diamond most brilliant.
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and then used them all against me.
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With patience, persistence, and petal softness,
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I am humiliated, exposed, invaded, betrayed,
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Without being intimidated by the rusty wire fences
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and yet, you have made this about you.
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and riot police gear you were met with,
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Your betrayal, your shock, your fears,
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this diamond, my diamond,
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your carrot dangling in front of me
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found part of the heart I had sent into hiding.
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if only I am a good girl, your girl.
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Oh, the picket fences still burn,
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“You fucking asshole! “ I cry again and stumble backward,
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but I care a lot less about their demise.
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falling into the picket fence constructed from the ashes of the
prior.
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Pickets crumble into a pile of lost dreams
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and there, sitting atop the charred ruins,
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a diamond shaped piece of glass.
~ Mk Michaels, 2011
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