Trying to swim in the quicksand of memories
Only barely escaping the pull, at once wanting to slide under
And yield to the ruthless, relentless past
And wanting to free myself from its smothering deeps
It was flattering, of course, at first
I had no idea that I was being groomed for servitude
That I would become both the altar and the acolyte
My own reflection in the mirror slowly changing into his
My own will draining out of my re-imagined life
My mind performing the dead-man's float inside my head
Emptying out, leaving space for his urgent needs
Becoming a stranger to those who'd known me so well
I swam frantically in his wake
Trying not to drown
Holding on to the stone of his emotional poverty
The days were elastic
The nights propped up by adrenaline and hope
I couldn't give him what he wanted
So I gave him what I was
And like the victim of a hit-and-run
I woke up knowing I had been crushed by the weight of his carelessness
Originally appeared 2010-12-27
01/26/2011
10:22:18 PM