I would like to remind you of your magnanimous shortcoming,
The one that seethes just beneath every thought you ever dare to think.
Yes, dare, a word you wouldn’t be comfortable with without
Company of a dictionary to rescue you from your ignorance.
Some would call you Virtuous, Innocent, Naïve, Shy,

But.

There are other words to describe you.
Weak, Stupid, Vulnerable.
And they writhe through your mind, twisting every day into an obsession,
Unhealthy yet pervading all you do, your severe inferiority prevalent in
Everything down to the way you breathe.
And there are days you wish you’d stop.
There are days you wish to bleed.

And if I were going to be honest,
I would admit below my breath that
There are days I too wish you would bleed,
Days that I curse you and damn you
And wish you had never been born.
Sometimes I hate you,
Despise you because you blessed me with my spirit,
You returned to me my laughter,
You forced peace between my teeth and
Held my stubborn jaw closed until I swallowed.

I am so different now,
So changed after a year without your understanding ever-presence.
There’s a little more solemnity beneath my debonair exterior,
A little less duplicity shimmering below the surface of my glimmerglass eyes.
Yea, I think I might be a little Stronger after blundering through the darkness,
I think I might be a little more Righteous, a little more Resilient.

But.

Some would describe me as
Callous, Defiant, Vile, Spiteful, Bitter,
And if I were honest, I’d be forced to agree most of the time.

There's something of passive anger burning just beneath
The resonant loneliness that grieves my stone heart,
Sonorous and beautiful in its own right.
There are days I feel it undulates inside my skin,
Disfiguring my frame until external protrusions reflect the internal depravity.

I like to think you wish me the
Ill will I deserve for deserting what
Meager form of “us” we had.
I like to think you recognize my less than
Magnanimous shortcomings through veils of
Metaphors and imagery,
Similes and smiles.

But mostly
I like to think of you thinking of me and
Wonder if you remember all my peculiarities with fondness,
Wonder if you ever walk to the end of your driveway
Just to get out of the house, just to see the stars...

Just to see the stars