Again, I am
In the throes of hurt
By the hand of the callous careless chico
that is always managing to put me there
Chico, did I make your time easier?
Did I smother you enough until SHE made it home?
Did I distract you enough?
Or did I not deter you
from saying, “darling” and “amor”
And the late night texts that
You sent from MY bed
And the shrine of sappy obvious love songs
That aren’t intended for
ME, the girl covered head to foot
With your hands and mouth
Mira cabron, I wanna thank you
For wiping my tears and continuing to
Screw me over with your insincerity
For continuing to push me like a thorn
Further and further into your falsely secure arms
For making me think that maybe it was ok
That maybe this was real
That maybe our deadline was not a finish line
But it was
And the song I sang that you flinched at
That I knew had some truth
About you regressing to the girl
Who finally made it home
Well I hope you don’t leave her black and blue
Like you have me….
BECAUSE NOW I HATE US BOTH.
Copyright © Allison Ballard