4-18-2017 in The Writer

I bundle your excuses into piles
Trash, keep, return.
Line up the needle and embroider the guilt,
embed the strung words into one wrist
then another.

My heart choked by syllables and sentences.
I wear thin but wear your victimization like a heavy cloak.
Continued denial, sucking at each muddied step.
I am weary.

I am blame, the catalyst
surefooted, capable and unmoveable.
You, cowed by me- and this
the weight of being reason-
of being judge to my own treason
to merit out my most unjust punishment.

“Family is everything” you gnash your teeth
from the safety of the jury box,
you who couldn’t fill the spaces
of family titles
who constantly changed the rules,
game pieces held loose in my hands.

I am wary of this slumbering anger,
there lies a tempest beneath
and I long to loose her leash.