I Know You Think I've Forgotten
but today in rain
without coat
without hat
dewdrops weigh my hair like limp leaves
and i come inside like a wet dog
god forbid i shake, for fear of being perceived as rabid
as you always found me to be
the unruly woman, the unruly boy, with soaked matted hair and ash on my left sleeve.
I know you think I’ve forgotten,
when I stand parallel in the hallway, contentment clad with the woman who trained the dog
with the woman who combed my gnarled fur
I know you think i’ve forgotten, when I smell your exorbitant eau de toilette, that you find so opulent,
that I find so headache inducing
and I don’t so much as meet your eyes
what was at a certain point unthinkable
is now common practice
a casual indifference to your presence that could never exist
not for the act of missing
but for the act of an ancient ache
and a current realization
i’m sick
like a dog
with the realization of having been battered and shot down
somewhat like old yeller
or something like that
not that you read
or anything.
I know you think i’ve forgotten
but today in the rain
i am filled with shame
that you manducated my beating heart
and that I went along with it
like the loyal mongrel I am.
I know you think i’ve forgotten
but the clouds are starting to part
and i don’t think i’ll ever let myself be battered again
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