like the time when I found him with some other woman,
he told me has had his urges, that he was only human,
and I was stupid enough to believe his excuses,
blind to his viewing me not out of love but out of uses:
not a pair of hands to hold, but a pair of thighs,
that's just men for you – they've got their eyes on the prize.
like the time he told me women were crazy,
but that I was different: in a field of thorns of I was a daisy,
but he plucked the petals off me – I love her, I love her not,
and I let him do it, let him destroy me in my prime,
that's just women for you – finding the sweetness in bitter lime.
(even when the bitterness burns,
there is pleasure in how beauty turns)
like the time he hit me when he was drunk:
drunk actions are sober wishes, I know, and my heart sunk,
but when he hit me it felt like a kiss,
fondness out of instinct, an affection of the fists,
and when people asked what happened...
that's just people for you – they ask but they're not saddened.
like the time he didn't stop when I asked him to,
and the world around me became a grey hue,
with his hands around my neck I couldn't breathe
but my struggling only made him seethe.
in that moment all the joy I've ever felt seemed to decay...
that's just love for you – it takes your breath away.
like the time I saw him, a long time after,
he seemed to find it funny, laughing a distant laughter,
as if it was stupid to accuse, absurd to suggest,
but I still feel a guilt, a dirtiness I cannot describe when I undress,
and even though it's all in my head, that is all I have to prove it was real,
that's just time for you – it hides the truth, allows the bad to heal.
YOU ARE READING
My Own Tangle of Thorns
Poetry'Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.' I have always loved this quote. I have always loved Lolita. How the cruellest things i...
