In the wake of my boredom and anger,
Arrived an uninvited dinner guest,
And past puffy eyes and warm tears,
She has a way of settling in.
I have busied myself with numerous hobbies, trying to avoid her,
And have scoured the internet for escape routes.
I carry a small mirror around so that I never face her head on,
This Medusa looks terrifyingly like me.
I thought that if I could just keep growing,
I could avoid sharing my home with her,
I have broken her image into pieces and leisurely devoured each bite,
With the comfortable sloth due a box of chocolates.
Continuously sewn together,
She is everything that I’m not,
And all the things I can’t help but be.
I can’t look at her for very long;
She is breath-taking-ly ugly.
I have been busy putting just one grain of rice in a jar each day,
And this damned errand has given her time to catch up.
Oh Desolation of My Soul, are we to become friends?
I have not wanted to know you.
I feel like I am being mocked.
Show me how to be your friend when I hate you;
I am not ready to be your friend, I still want you to go.
I have not wanted to confront the bitterness head on,
It bubbles up out of my mouth and I try to disguise it,
It is the comical blood upon the handkerchief,
I make it into a nosebleed as I waste away from cholera,
I hate you for making me deal with myself.
You set pin pricks in my path, little gifts of recognition that weren’t there before,
You want to spend quality time with me,
Nauseous bouts laying on the floor,
And waiting for the next great wave to pass over,
You whisper generous kindnesses in my ear:
“You don’t have to be good at this. It’s okay.”
And I hate you for insinuating that I of all people should struggle.
You serve me by devouring my strength,
You alight me to the puddles I would simply hop over.
You are a gentle giver of terrible hugs.
Your embraces are a trap that I barely tolerate,
Am I so lucky to be held captive by an elder relative?
I count the seconds and try not to squirm, eyes glazed over,
Trapped in such close proximity with the worst parts of myself,
As my Aunt Abbie legitimately wants me to feel loved,
And I am ready for this family reunion to be over.
You are the step parent nobody wants,
You don’t qualify to be in my family pictures,
You are not the family I would choose for myself,
Maybe God has given you a free pass, but I haven’t.
I wait by the door for my real parent to get home.
The idealized image I have crafted,
The one strung up on all corners of the internet.
I wait with genuine love and affection for a Phantom who couldn’t open the door if she tried,
My Favorite me isn’t real,
But you are the warm body that sits next to me on the couch, just waiting,
And I would betray you in a heartbeat if it came to a trade.
I wouldn’t need 40 pieces of silver,
I would lovingly give you up.
Your genuine love meets my murderous gaze,
And it becomes a stand off.
I know which one of us will win,
But please don’t rush the process.
Let me throw extravagant tantrums that rival Kardashian weddings,
Let me grow new reflexes, from throwing myself on the floor,
I will hold my breath and see if it vexes you,
And you will need to do your best not to count the wasted brain cells,
That die in National Service, as I go red in the face.
I need to tell you a billion more times that I hate you,
At some point I will say nothing.
And then, who knows? It may gradually turn to love.
But please keep in mind: YOU are the uninvited house guest,
I am still convinced that I was better off without you,
And it’s going to be up to you to prove yourself,
Because as of today, I still wish you would go.