"I'm jealous of your happiness,"
you told me. Instead of being alarmed,
instead of protecting
all the light in my eyes from you,
I thought this meant I wasn't doing
what I should be doing.
"It's not your job," my mom reminded me,
real love reminded me. But to me it was,
& now here I had to be happy for two people.
I had to unchain my self control
to try & build you a garden
you had left neglected.
I planted the seeds of my own memories-
this is what love looks like,
can't you see it!
I picked all my flowers
& gave them to you
but you held them like weeds
& asked what they were.
All my wishes blew away in the wind.
You saw thorns & mud
& I felt my failure
to make you see what I do.
but this is not where love grows,
this is where I learn to leave
what hangs heavily on me.
Waiting rooms contain
the energy of all your
thoughts waiting for you.
I can tell you want to feed off of my reactions.
Your aggression murders the romance of conversation.
Words are twisted until I can't even see their shape anymore.
You want me to be angry like you.
You want to feel in control.
You want to stomp loudly & carry a big stick.
but I won't pull swords out of my throats like this.
I won't shoot poison arrows that blame bodies for being in the way
I can suspect at the core you're just a little boy inside,
just a man who has suppressed cries,
& if pain stays in the corner it was cast
then it's shadow begins to rip the light out of the room.