You didn’t have to leave me like that,
Holding my disbelief, a goldfish in a
Plastic bag, swimming aimlessly without
Anywhere to go, hope of escape,
Knowledge of anything else.
I’d grown accustomed to our dance,
The one where you lift me and
Let me down and throw me up in the air
Only to watch me fall, a knot of bruised
Feelings, unresolved questions.
Apparently, all I was worth was
One phone call in the last
I don’t know how many years.
You told me how important I was.
Words come and go, floating by in
Teeming or sparse configurations.
Alluding, promising, seducing,
Unconvincing me.
Faded, creased picture in my mind.
I try to recall what you look like;
A mocking expression, a snide smile,
My worth rushes into focus.
You can’t possibly hear me when
You’re talking, every rebuttal a
Blow to cordiality, each defensive
Twitch eroding trust, weakening
Compassion. I realize you know
Everything and those who bear this
Gift have a crucial responsibility to
Ceaselessly share their thoughts,
Bury all others in the avalanche.
Every time the phone rang I’d
Get an anxious, uncomfortable,
Crawling feeling because I knew
What was on the other end.
Syrupy sweet platitudes and
Depressingly shallow exchanges
About nothing in particular and of
Excruciatingly little interest to me.
Gritting my teeth, rubbing my temples
To pacify the misery, hoping this
Would be the last time I’d have to
Deal with this unsolicited dross.
They had very few
Conversations of any import,
Mostly directive affairs
Where the father talked
At the son, but he remembers
That one time his father told
Him he really liked his
Perspective on self-sufficiency.
Until the day he died,
His father never realized he
Didn’t mean leaving people to
Fend for themselves against
Ruthless corporations and
An inhumane ruling class.
He could never explain,
Some doors just aren’t open.
It is the tone of the letter
That is initially off-putting.
Reading on,
Nothing changes.
It’s the same thing
As always…
Words intended
To hurt,
From someone already
In that state.
They robbed him of
His trust, took away
His safety, denied
Him kindness, replaced
It all with harsh words
And threats of pain.
He likes to pretend
That everything’s okay
But he thinks and behaves
In ways that mirror
What he went through,
Perpetuating the cycle.
It’s not that he
Wants to be this way,
It’s that he believes he has
No other choice,
To interrupt it would mean
Reliving the horror.
It dawns on him that
Perhaps there is nothing
He can do, that he
Really has tried everything
Possible, that the only
Variable here is whether
The cause of his agony
Will gain some kind of insight
That changes the course
Of events, a healing of
Pain rather than
Tightening of the rack.
He was adept at
Saying anything he
Needed to in order
To get whatever it
Was he felt he needed
At that particular moment.
People could perish,
Empires could fall,
But at least he
Was feeling great
At the expense of
Other human beings.
