My Life in a Crumbling House

I can’t keep pretending

that your detached interest

in creating distance

where it never existed before

is just another way of loving

me. The truth of the matter is

I’m more familiar with seeing

and feeling “not loving me”

so please don’t ask me

to keep trying to see

what doesn’t exist.

The much easier truth,

the one I actually can see

I’ve spent years

chasing a love that

for me

is ill-fitting. And now

I’ve entered my last days

&

I’m no longer willing

to keep chasing

loves that aren’t form-fitting.

I refuse to keep squeezing

into too-little love or oversized love

all the while pretending

it was made just for me.

You had me completely fooled

once

but I’ve been fooled before

my heart burdened

by the transparent lies & disguises

of bag men who pretended

to be men

in love with me.

Truth is

my life is a crumbling house

of decisions played like cards

that never were mine

to begin with.

And now I’m held hostage

in a crumbling house of lies

watching through the bars

as life goes on

and I’m still stuck

believing in fairy tales &

learning to wear

lies that were never meant

to fit me.

Peace & Love,

Rosalind