The game: (speak; revised)

The game

It’s easy for you to be a sore winner now that you’re so far removed 

from all the rehearsals and practice matches

The ones you orchestrated in secret

You get to evade the blame because, after all, 

You waited for the fair fight

You nursed me back to health first

So yeah, I guess you’re right.

You didn’t just come barreling in,

to steal pieces of my mind and pieces of my past for no reason.

But you forced me to let you hold them

You tiptoed

It’s worse

I still remember the moment you told me

That I could be myself again

If I became yours but you were really saying

I could only ever find myself again if it was under your careful watch

Under your control

I thought you saw me, and that's the only reason I ever agreed to play.

There was never anything about you I found particularly worthwhile

But in all the struggle to be valuable to you, I forgot why I wanted to be.

I let you cut me into puzzle pieces

I let you put me back together with only the pieces you liked

And I, alone, found a way to discard the ones you didn’t.

I became perfect for you

So that we could be equals.

You spent months telling me it wasn’t a fair fight yet,

And then didn’t let me see all the rules of the game.

You brought me cliffside

That was your choice

I never had any say in when, where, or why.

My fingers are still bleeding from that final attempt to hold you safe.

I had to look at them to know they hurt,

Mangled and fucked up by the pull of your violent and ridiculous collar 

dragging me towards my final test

I can close my eyes and remember every play.

The way that the gravel from the edge branded my knees and shins,

Like my skin was as pliant as play dough,

Like I was made of clay.

Sweaty lips and teeth were pleading you bitter

While you fussed on the edge of that cliff

I could feel the game change

For the first time you wouldn’t let me win

You looked up at me and laughed and

With indifference you slashed 

at the rest of the desperate that held you.

You.

Who were you ever?

You never claimed your own victory but you certainly made sure to confirm my defeat

when you forced my hand away,

liberating the futile grip

I had on you, but then 

you looked up at me once more as you fell

Tossing a final bone in my direction, 

the chance for me to say goodbye, thank you,

That was a good game.

So I looked for you in your eyes

But all I saw was myself

All your tactics like chess moves churned in my stomach

I tried whining to your ghost 

I wanted you to come back for a moment 

I wanted you to explain the different ways the game could have gone

I wanted to watch your eyes while you mapped for me

the sequence of plays that would have beat you

but your shell turned to dust in my hands

I deflated in one hasty exhale.

I felt lullabies and all the things I hadn’t gotten to write yet

Escape from my remains with that final breath.

I didn’t get to hold them as I failed

Instead I held pieces of the concrete and pieces of the puzzle that I secretly kept.

The game is over.

I’ve considered every other possible sequence,

And in any of them I still would have lost.

I can poke myself in places and feel my skeleton and it’s your fault.

Now that you’ve been dead a while, my puzzle doesn’t have any holes

I never needed you like you told me I did

I’m not missing any pieces

But I never wanted to be a puzzle in the first place

And now I am

You tricked me.