I wonder when it all went wrong.
Did it already happen within her, that
Nothing was right from the start?
When he put his hands on her, when
He told her that she wanted it, when
He persuaded her to let him in, once more,
Had it not been decided yet that things had
Already fallen apart and the last pieces would
Be sliced off?
He took her, made you, they did, and everything
Started to unravel, he wanted to pin her onto him,
He wanted her to stay and linger and dissolve further,
He thought you could make sure of that, that she stays,
That she cannot leave, that your presence would change her
Mind, that it would assure her dependency, you used your children,
You always used them to get what you wanted, to keep, for your
Own benefits, no matter how much hurt you made them swallow.
It never worked, did it? You put such a burden on her
That she’ll never comprehend. You created duplication
After duplication of her, never gone from your mind and
Yet all the cheating, all the excess, the begging for sex, the
Erasure of women’s identities, laughable, all of them, in your
Hands, in your train of thought, you couldn’t get enough, you
Needed to remain in power, you were always the one who leaves,
She couldn’t do that to you, take your move away from you, the
Taste of your own medicine, and what about that little girl on
Whose shoulders you put the weight of your world turned upside down?
She came to this world and was so fragile and you’d never
Touch her, but you hurt her in so many invisible ways, the
Favourite, so it seemed, that never mattered, you always had
A plan, it always ran parallel with destruction sold as love and
Affection, she was meant to repair the state of things that could
Never step back into the past, how it was, how broken it was,
She was meant to keep her there, in your prison, to make her
Visualise the harm she’d inflict, but careful there, it was you who
Made it impossible to stay, you broke it all, you did all the hurting.
You always mastered the art of reassigning blame.
And you moulded her in your image. Your character
Beneath her looks. The older she got, the more she
Started to look like you. And then you couldn’t handle her
Anymore, when you came out, when you erupted within her,
What you did, to her, how you were, everything you hated,
Within her, inside out, the conflictual nervous-compulsive nature,
The soul-gutting narcissism, the intrigues, the lies, the whole act,
The tragedy swallowed by everyone, the inner perpetrator burning
Within their own skin. That’s on you. She’s on you.
You never faced your demons.
And you encouraged her to become one of them.
And now you are not facing her either, letting her fall, too,
Because you never loved yourself and you never loved
Her either. And it shows.
Croque-Melpomene 