I said no with my eyes that implored you.
I said no with my hands that resisted.
I said no with my brain that spun.
I said no with my legs that gave way.
I said no with my heart that froze.
But you didn’t care.
And took from me anyway.
Not enough people had given you not enough time.
Not enough attention.
Not enough gentleness.
That you had to take from anywhere to feel like anyone.
You stole from the weak to give to the poor.
The poor, brutalised, neglected darling boy
Who now took from the beautiful, sweet, perfect girl
Who had all the riches of heaven forever just out of reach.
Desperately, cruelly, inevitably out of reach.
So you ended up no better off.
Unable to seize what can only be given.
Just another step further away from home.
I wish they had loved you as you’d deserved.
And taught you about the wonders of the world and how to receive them.
And that your tender soul was the greatest gift of them all.
So you’d had no need to spill your hurt outwards, hunting for solace in grabs for illusory power.
You too were devastated by helplessness.
Burning, wretched, intolerable helplessness.
So I’ll grieve for us both now, and soothe our wounds with weeping.
And heal inwards that I may not hurt outwards.
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