for all of the times you could have said i love you, and didn't.

i'll never be rid of you.

people really like when i write about you.
i think it's because
the words come easier
when i think of you.
people like the way the words fit on the paper
and how my anger takes them moments to understand.
but i did not have that luxury.
tucked into a role i didn't want,
i raised a child you asked for.
i was a mother at ten years old,
and my anger festered.
while you sat
and drank
and made it seem as though
somehow
you
were the victim.
people like when i write about you
because the pain they feel is only for a moment.
from the start to finish,
people are blown away.
they ask me if i write from experience.
and i want to scream how they don't get to
read
my pain
and then forget it.
they only get to hurt
for minutes.
i have hurt my whole life.
so i write.
because when i write about you
the words come easy.
it wasn't like that, always.
i used to crack my pencils in half
and throw my hand against the wall until i had to wrap it for the next day.
people really like
to read about you.
when i write i make you sound like
some other worldly
man.
but you are just a coward.
words come easier
when i write about you,
because they are in my head all day until i can write them out.
and it's not always pretty.
i am angry,
most of the time.
and sometimes i think people feel that pain for a second, when they read my poems.
and maybe they don't deserve it,
that pain.
just like i didn't.
it's a big jumbled mess in my head
when i think about it.
you.
but the words,
they come easy.
and people really like when i write about you.
so i do.