The Whimpering End

Always by your side--not beneficial yet benign
I was your little tumor--you tried to excise.
Hoping one day the toxins would drain,
But endured life together six long years,
As one in the same--through a complex conglomerate of laughter and pain.
You held me tight, then cursed my name,
Because I tainted your fond memories with
Coldness and blame--for my resentment
Towards the unfulfilled expectations of love.

The flutters faded for everyday operations,
The status of the sink took precedence,
Over the Melodrama of Connection,
That we were supposed to act in.

Waltzing under the high moonlight,
Morphed into a waterdowned Tragedy.
Petty arguments drawn out for hours on hours,
As the audience dodged eyes and filtered out.
Backs remained intact and knives in the drawer,
The blood in the body along with the gore--
We loved each other just the same.

When the curtains ataxically closed,
They opened back up again--
Until beaten to death like an inside joke,
The stage manager held them closed--
And the surgeon resected me-oma--
Hidden restituion alone.

When it comes to matters of love and loss,
I have not only read, but lived what T.S. Elliot said:

Through mazes of disoriented feelings--
On the spectrum from rage to comfort to ambivalence--
Levitates the ray of respect--
That shields true iniquity--explosions leaving hearts for dead--
Complicating a clean cut bang--
A perfect formula for years of simmering pain

dimmer
dimmer
Until the end finally comes in a
whimper.