It didn’t do any good. Crying after you.
Persuading you that he’d make you disintegrate.
Maybe it was partially my fault.
I believed in the lie myself.
I wasn’t stronger.
You wanted us both to jump or lose me somewhere on the way.
Cover up your tracks.
I idealised you. There had never been any room for you
To be human. To be yourself. I never let you in.
I kept us distanced with all of my boundaries.
But then I’d let us burn.
It’d never make sense.
I always saw the person I wanted to see.
I wanted to believe in. And I understand your anger.
The impossibility to match. The supposedly not being good enough.
Maybe I had been so bored by all the people I met
Including you. Staring into their phones, getting drunk,
Nothing else seemed to matter in their sick insular bubbles.
You were a pretender and I was a projector.
Seemed perfect for a while. In our youths.
We would never last, we didn’t have it in us.
The facade I covered you with started to rot and your silence
Was full of accusations, unsaid, internal magma that I never
Got to hear. And the jolly infiltrators found you and you became
A lost cause. I don’t know how to remember you.
I left you behind and yet, there’s that laughter, that
Young woman, unblemished, herself, before I started to dream.
And everything escalated once we opened our mouths.
Croque-Melpomene 