Untitled Poem (living in contested reality)
Living in contested reality Every spare moment Spent fighting for my sanity Did I trust too much Or not enough? And why can’t I see it Still? Her words are like fingers Picking apart the corners of my room Every morning I spend hours Mending the cracks But they always come back Because did I trust too much Or not enough? Was I loved Or was I used? And why can’t I see it Still? I mend the cracks with facts Kept warm and ready Putty that passes judgement A very clearly broken promise Mixed with my tears And I smear and I smear And it holds until I wonder again Did I trust too much Or not enough? Enough to give her long-term clearance To re-architect bits of my room To poke holes And ruin my walls Months after we last spoke Not enough.. Not enough to what? I’ll never know What if I’d given her myself To squeeze between her hands Roll into a ball and start again Where would we be now? “This will hurt, but then you’...