He came to me, offering support, strength and closeness
He asked me questions, seemingly interested
He said he loved the way I thought
and the way I was, as a whole
But the nagging, leery part of me kept me cautious
And ... so quickly came ... a change
Less questions
Less curiosity
Less support
More leaning on me
More, I was the strong one
More, I had the grit,
while his backbone often slumped limp
And I learned his tells
- how he faked initiative and surety
with a slight bad boy impersonation
He started making fun of me
- putting me down
- lashing out against the very way I was
But it was the same,
as once, he had said he loved
Time was like the slow burn of a razor blade
- temper tantrums and boyish sulk
I had no patience for it
He easily let me go and moved on to another
I imagine him now
- the faux pose, in black leather, atop a motorcycle,
like some character from a biker TV show
And I am thankful
to be among the living, even though single,
better so, than a dead world of endless days and empty nights
I guess he could hold unpleasant thoughts of me
And I might be hurt, if I wasn't moreover drawn to being appreciative of fate
© Kay Irvin