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Poem
I wish you would’ve told me,
That I was no longer worth your time.

Your back-handed alabaster murmurs
Stroll passed my skeptical exhales
As I greeted you like adults should

But, your whitened pupils
Spoke louder
Than your failed dreams
To be a people-person

I wish you would’ve said
That I no longer held value in your agendas

An irreplaceable animosity
That you now hold dear
Through every fault of my own,
Allegedly

Though I hungered for brighter days,
I always shared my buffet of hopes
To the masses waiting
With opened palms,
Sweaty vindications

Where did I really stand at the peak of your cold shoulder?

I’ll never know.
But, I should’ve known.

My internal sadness remembers this feeling.

I was good enough to draw the map.
But, a failure at being the driver.

What did I need to give, to sacrifice, to be taken seriously?

Were you afraid I was going to steal the hooves
Off your high-horse

I wanted us to matter.
I wanted us to be the HUMAN in our “HUMANity”!

But, all I received were whiffs of a beggar’s glue
And smiles from a snooty gum line
You threw my elaborated grin into frigid waters
Foolishly insisting I drown in my recycled sorrows
As you “wish me well in my future endeavors”

Another shuffled song of the sanctimonious haberdasher,
The wicked unicorn wearing rusted halo,
The speech impeded leper
Waxing lyrics of a decomposing composition

Ink of our pens, emptied
Its feathery tip forcibly removed for wanting to fly.

You adamantly clamor behind the scenes
Like harmonious vasectomies
Bellowing wisdom from siren’s smile
Because you knew it all

A glorified list of search results
With no value of your own

But, now, I have chosen a side.

I have chosen to remove you from my equation.
I will remove you from my hopes & dreams,
My garden unseen

And I hear the echoes of my constipated madness
My consummated sadness
Begging me to stand down
And be a good boy

NEVER AGAIN.

You had me at my best.
You couldn’t look at me during my worst,
Blind & bound by your diseased red-tape
Stowed away in your lackadaisical mantle

I only wanted to be a part of something.

…
…now you register your vilified hopelessness
On fickle parchment

Your rancid tears ascend into carbonized air
As I draw lines within my exonerated dialect
I exorcise your falsehoods
And slow dance with your fractured well-wishes
My tomorrow shall become an empowered strut.

I wish you would’ve had the classy vernacular
To tell me I no longer matter.

Look at me now,
Now,
Now, I will do you the favor.

©D.J.E.
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