one foot out the door

You are the graze of barely touched skin  
bruised with the force of the last time  
we got too close in heated debate  

I wear the purple indentations  
under my skin  
where no one will see them  
 
I've become good at lying where it counts  
and no one knows the face you wear  
behind closed doors  
 
When I leave I'll be the crazy one  
and you'll wear the clothes of a martyr  
that stood too close to a woman scorned  
for no good reason  
 
Or so the story will go  
when you retell it like you're brave  
for loving someone as damaged as me  
 
But I am not crazy  
and the raised tremble in my voice  
is not without reason  
though we've long since ceased to live  
a life guided by reasons code  
and you would rather hide  
behind your mantra of  
"I'm just a bad man"  
rather than step into the role  
of a better man  
that doesn't kick me down  
just to lift me up
 
And it's sick  
how I want you to be the saviour  
to this mess you've made  
because I know things  
will never get better  
and nostalgia for better days  
won't erase the ever widening cracks  
between righteousness and respect  
 
True love doesn't look like this  
 
© Indie Adams 2021