Adjuraciun
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Leave me, wicked lover! Hit the street
facefirst, for all I care. You'll not get missed
by me, what with the company you keep.
Permit me to forget you still exist
since I've existed solely for defeat,
scarcely worth your worst. Why then repeat
our sick affair? Why risk another tryst
on sins you'd have to answer for? How cheap
word gets depends — to you the twist
depends who's beating versus who gets beat.
Go on, get out! I don't deserve the hurt
of love like yours. Leave now! I must insist.
Besides, it's not as though you owe me dirt —
I never could've been one you'd've kissed.
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Comments are no longer read or moderated through to public display, and all existing comment will eventually be cloaked. I tried. I'm done here.
At the kind suggestion of the patron and friend whose guidance launched the cycle of poems of which this one is 98th of 100 (presently counting down toward midway through the cycle), and for the benefit of the love of my life and his child I am carrying, I will add a few further words on this one and the ones that are and will come in proximity to it. These words have never been easy for me, whether in therapy or in bed with a lover or even in my poetry. But my friend is right: these are words that must get said.
I lost one of my dearest friends in one of the most brutal ways a heart can be torn. Technically and clinically, one might not call it suicide, but the truth is that she chose her death with no less precision than if she had aimed a gun up her nose – she made a point of seeking out and taking on the most abusive clients, then learned the triggers of the most cruel among them, then got him good and drunk, then did nothing to defend herself. She simply made it happen to her. I held her hand in the hospital as she slipped away, promising her I would breathe for nothing more than to carry her words to the 2-year old daughter they already had taken away from her.
The evil demon I want most to damn to hell is the one that took her life. The same one that has so twisted one too many of my friends who have been targets and playthings of its malice. The same one that now loves me, with no aim other than to destroy me as it destroyed her. The cursed legacy of my friend’s father must end.