Transfusion

My body has been a tool
and myself a fool - unsure
if it was me or you being used.

I dragged my bruised self away.
I couldn't stay and watch
you waste yourself on me, nor on you.

Now, despite the years that I've been through,
it's taboo to look back and witness that dying
- every time.

You and me, we played many levels of history.
I tell the only story, only in hushed tones,
only to myself.

You were the healthiest blood. I was the ageing vein.
It wasn't a shame to you
when it came to end.

I continue to bend and break
beneath confusion.
A slow transfusion of all you were.