two years

is your brother okay? are you? are you sorry for lying, cheating, harming? do you think i’m as worthless & foolish as you’ve made me feel? did you know i smelled her burrowed in your beard once, but chose to plead the fifth? why celibate now, but a whore beside me? why did you believe i deserve the dirt, the asphalt, debris? do your lungs burn from the spliffs? from the running in bitter winter wind? have you shed a single sincere tear in my wake? did you hate me? & if so, why? is it the sin of my skin or what’s between my thighs? the former i’d understand. the latter should be your noose. or was it my soul that caused revulsion, repulse, refuse? i dreamt of you last night, or maybe you visited. i stood outside your door & tried to flee the prison. but spread out on your bed, like butter on your bread, i dared to ask the questions that emaciate my head. i can’t respond to your email, know the answers will singe worse, but it’s been two years of burning slowly in your church. i want your remorse, i want your amends, want you to heal what still offends. do days pass you by without me on your mind? do shadows cross your face, make noodles of your spine? i still believe in you & that your soul is good, but your suffering hasn’t taught you the way you said it would. i am trying to be better, creating the way you pushed me, but without the cloud of anguish, without the critique that smushed me. i love you together, i love you apart. i hate what you did & who you often are. your actions are landmines, but your soul & truth gold. i know you are better than this monster that you’ve sold. i pray for your healing & that one day, i’ll forgive. i pray we both get better, no more taking, just give. this is a shit poem, but one far more true than any other. two years in my heart & i know it’ll be forever.