Sunday, August 6, 2017

For a Hostage

there was no way
you could have ever met my demands

deep down
i think i made them impossible on purpose

deep down
i think i cared more about
being right
than
being loved

deep down
i was a weak
fragile
insecure
little man

counting on some fleeting symptoms
of Stockholm Syndrome
to keep you

dents
the shape of my fist
in your refrigerator door

a pile of wax and glass
from candles smashed
against a wall

threat after threat
to keep you afraid of leaving
because i was always afraid you were going to

terrified of being alone
incapable of trust
made me
a
shitty
person

i see now
you never left me

you escaped me

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