You know how to use your words,
How to play with them in front of me.
How to disguise them as something well-intended,
As an appreciation of me.
And you blind me.
There is a reason you crossed all my younger selves.
I will hold them now and you’re discarded.
You’re a lesson learned.
You were a source of misery for me.
I always knew, my gut told me and yet I thought I didn’t deserve more.
You live your life.
And I mine. I have never been happier.
You tore me away from myself.
And yes, I let you, and for what?
I won’t stand in awe before empty sculptures.
As soon as love touches you, you crumble into pieces,
Fall apart. The incubus.
There is only a certain distance that you’ll go.
The rest will always lie on her shoulders.
And it will not be me, never will be me, and it really never has been me.
“Study of light and shadow (detail)” by Giuseppe Bezzuoli (1784-1855)
Croque-Melpomene 