I confessed to all my grieving,
ten years I've been trying to cut you down
vines of you keep winding and reeling
up the nostrils,
a suffocating cloud.
I wonder if you know how parasitic
your existence is upon the bones of me,
living in a present tense,
regurgitating us, over and again.
I wonder if you sleep on pillows,
stuffed with thorns of looks I gave and things I said,
I wonder if you chest starts beating when you contemplate my end inside your head.
I wonder if we'll regret those choices, choices made to keep us calm and keep us safe,
when I picture us together
I only see us spine side up within a lake
and as I stand here in my almost freedom,
with tendrils of you coming out my ears,
I have to say it is no better standing here
making ungrateful humans scrambled eggs.