Reservoir

16th June 2020

You’ve positioned me, ghostlike-
An eery replica of your past,
You present me as a possible future
To the world. I gulp as to say no;
No, I’m not her! I’m me-
But it soothes you, so I comply.

Our vibes are all mishmash with inconsistencies-
Sometimes sweet, other times sour,
Overpowering texture like powdered sugar
Deepens the loss we both feel,
As though chasing fire will ease our burns,
Lighting the way for fresh hurt.

Becoming lost in the lust of you,
I’m caught out every time with
All of your feelings,
Like a forest thing I don’t understand,
Or a gloom persisting the day away,
Always reminding me bliss must be backed up.

Treading water in your tears was enough for me,
But now there’s so much more to it-
You have me backstroking and diving,
Pretending to be your next gold medallist,
As though she was just silver or bronze,
And you look at me like you need me to win.

She ruined a part of you- but what you ask,
With your eyes like happy dogs,
Is a version of myself I can’t give!
He still has the choice cut of me,
And although you pretend the cut-offs are delectable to you-
I’m well aware that you are unsatiated.

You, playing the director of your world,
Throw me on as Juliet, costume and all,
And have me pretend to be the real thing-
But the pit sees through my awful mimicry,
And which of us suffers the rebuke?

Having newly set myself free of adoration, comforts and a future,
You thrust me into a mockery of the real thing-
I’m not ready, and you know this,
But still, you hold my hand by the reservoir,
And I pretend not to picture diving in headfirst,
Just to escape the discomfort of being loved.