I hear you bad mouthing me.
Resentment settles heavy on the chest
like a night’s full ashtray,
when your body is finally weary,
and you slug off to bed.
It rags at all my conscious states
pulling me down
like the moon in the early morning.
Distant laughter dissipates
as chilled stars pale.
“He said my character was bad.”
Speechless,
I can only remove myself.
To be alone, to cry.
Stones are revenge,
bulging in my pockets,
I feel the weight of them.
Cradling the jaggedness of them,
tearing at seams.
You certainly had them ready for me.
Well, let me remind you -
each of us
lives in households of glass.
I look to the East,
where the sun threatens to rise;
there the darkness looms like a friend turned foe,
a supposed to be trusted one,
cold and unyielding,
memories turn into broken panes.
You told me lies and I believed you.
You told me stories that I thought were true…
I was your puppet,
now, I am the villain of this piece.
Well I will not let you succeed.
Your character assassination
will be confronted,
like the witch-hunt it is.
I will raise my flaming torch;
in the still dark of night
put my racing thoughts
to one side.
I will show you
who has a good character.
Who can rise above this.
Count the beats of my heart
as I breathe my way to sleep
to wake up and no longer be defined
by the weight of another’s damaged soul.