And you...

You with your lies, unkind, words, fists of furry and backward elation.

I see this parting as nothing, but sweet sorrow

and my emancipation. This situation is

a tale of pure woe, and star-crossed puppets,

on a stage set with no Juliette (or Romeo).

Sadder than the story of Lady (and Macbeth).

To be or not be, as Hamlet;

filled with only, regret.

Or should I be like you, jealous, insecure, defiant and shallow.

While I remain, pretty, silent, complacent, living comfortably in your

shadow. Always anxious, uncomfortable and on edge, in your presence,

feeling low.

Anxiously awaiting your next blow.

The fact that you are more concerned with

'getting your belongings,' than

you are worried about my black eye, is ludicrous.

Remember? It was a gift you left me with (along with the bruises).

I can't believe the nerve of this guy!

And you, are less than a human being, in my eyes.

I thank you for your,"token of appreciation," for

my endless sacrifice.

©I.M. "That Girl Muse."