Stockholm

I am my insecurities

Never quite sure of me myself.

But I would never lie to you

I would quickly die for you.

Put my feelings on the shelf.

I reach out my fingers to find a cold invisible shadow, to wake up in the rubble of the past three years alone.

A relationship of turmoil, a tear stained war zone.

All the work I had put in, like an exhausted laborer- reaching repeatedly for their bosses satisfaction.

The satisfaction rarely comes, most of the time instead being a barrage of new projects.

Dress up more.

Lose some weight.

Enjoy the company of people you hate.

Stay at the party or go home alone.

So many nights I would stand waiting, in a room filled with people, none of whom I could relate.

But you loved a good party, a function to stay late.

To traverse venue after venue house after house- and I follow.

Your precious lap dog just waiting to be praised.

“You did so good today” you’d say and I’d lap it up, trying to wash down the disappointment that I taste.

When I would refuse to go

I was met with dismissal

“Okay I’ll go alone.” You’d say.

But then I wouldn’t get to see you.

“Okay so be alone.” You meant.

Because I wouldn’t please you.

Even when my work paid off- when I could take shelter in your bed,

I’d wait for hours to be in your arms

To be met with the sounds of late night gaming- a drunken python in your stead.

I’d squeak out a complaint now a mouse for you to prey.

You’d open up and show me the poison in your fangs. The smell of liquor and cheep beer to start my fear and keep me chained.

You’d turn your rage on me

Yet I’d still beg to stay.