This is not a poem
didn't have time to measure iambic pentameter
cause there is no number to measure the diameter of
this circle B R O K E N
This is my cry of pain so fresh that if Shylock
demanded a pound of my flesh he would find it best
enjoyed smothered...with gravy and mashed potatoes and collard greens, with hot-water cornbread and
peach cobbler
After all, is not this the food of my soul?
You see, I married a man and I loved him more than I loved God
That was my first mistake
My second mistake was loving him more than I loved myself and not having the self-esteem to expect more than what I was given
For five long years, I searched him out in alleys and junkyards...looking for him and the pet monkey that he carried on his back
And even when it was apparent that a life with him was a life indeed doomed, I held on
Another pet, akin to a dumb devoted canine
found stray, wanting a master to validate
throw me a bone of contention
I'm an educated woman, and I read Pygmalion
Tell someone how worthy
how great
how forgiven
how unique
how proud
how deserving
DESPITE.....
and see what you end up with.
Here is my prize, almost 10 years later, Black man all dressed up in his finest, new job, new fucking haircut...has the nerve to declare:
"I feel that I have exceeded you...my life is moving in a new direction...and by the way, I can never love you and respect you the way you want me to, because after careful analysis, I realize that I was a drug addict when we got married (which I failed to properly advise you of, but that is neither here nor there). I was not in my right mind, but since I'm all
better now, hopefully you will realize that it was a mistake to marry you and I never really loved you. I probably should have told you before we had four children and I moved you 1200 miles away from home and definitely before I gave you that nasty little herpes virus. But honest disclosure is not my thing, which is probably why you found out on your own about my pregnant 19-year-old girlfriend. But hey, you're smart, beautiful and intelligent, and any man would be lucky to have you as a wife. Too bad, so sad, I'm sorry. But hell, you knew I was a crack-head, you could have left at anytime. It's your fault that it went so far, you being so committed and devoted to our marriage. What are you...some type of martyr!"
So people, here I am thinking "what the FUCK!"
100% undeserving of this cup before me
Father, must I continue to partake of the poison? Grant me the ability to see shit when I smell it.
In conclusion,
Another Black Family, add it to your list of casualties....The Andersons of Colorado Springs,
we leave behind one woman, left to piece together her shattered heart, her broken life
four young children, sons who may suffer the sins of their father and a daughter who may forever search for the love of a man, like her mother before her
and one Black man, leaving disaster and destruction in his wake in his search for instant gratification, still selfish, still an addict
But yall don't fret
cause he's "all better now"
And all he can say is "I'm sorry", and for once
He's damn right!

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