how exactly will i get away from you?

if i hadn’t misstepped, by now i would

have hit the end of the seven year stretch

i have to wait so desperately to have

a layer of skin you’ve never touched.

 

but alas, poor yorick...

oh, no, another mistake, poor you, poor you!
it’s always poor you!

there’s no room for someone else’s sorrow in your mind,

the slings and arrows that life will throw at all of us,

somehow, apparently, must only hit you.

 

you, you. we are all the center of our own universes

but there is no contentment within your soul

until your gravitational pull hijacks the peaceful

orbit of others. you are too strong for your own good,

but hear nothing of the cries and sorry whispers,

asking you for the how-many-eth time to please,

be careful with me. be careful with me.

 

me. you were always so concerned with

me, who i was and what i looked like and

how i fit into your kingdom.

i was your flaxen haired princess and

your token heterosexual. if the gratitude i had for you

wasn’t so overwhelmed with regret,

i guess i should have thanked you for making me

realize that i hate what i look like with blonde hair

and that i’ve never looked as good as i do with

another girl on my arm.

 

but no, no thankfulness for you,

you who cheated and deceived

you who left burning reminders that

i will never be my own person, that i will always

remember you, be part of you, in this strange place

between best friend

and something else.