Second Hand

Based on a true story

I never asked to be your charity case
Passing me your hand me down love
Giving your left over affection
Making me your substitute heart
A place you hide in when other hands no longer reach
I never asked for your two bit apology
Or double sided I’m sorry
Never needed anything other your realness
Funny how you place yourself so high on that shelf
As if your actions are just
Concerning your hot and cold lust for me
I didn’t befriend you with ulterior motives
And I choke as I find myself lying outside
What you have stolen
Parts of me deeply trusting you
I never reached for anything
Only what you offered
Little morsels of your soul laced with arsenic
I ate thinking how sweet
Never realizing that a bitter taste
Would be left in me
As I suffer from relational poisoning
Confined to a bed of infirmities within my soul
And you won’t let me free
Because selfishly
It’s all about you
Somewhere down the line
I believed you did find I was good for your mind and heart
Time apart made that a fact
But I guess I was wrong about that
I thought one time
Was enough for you to understand
But here it is at time two
You still don’t have a clue as to who I really am
Or what I am really worth
As you toss me crumbs
And under your tongue lies the same venom
Pulling me in to push me back
Did I ever ask for that?
As under protest I reject everything you ever said
That remotely resembles Love
Because I am not your second hand w***e
Here to pick you up when she closes a door
Here to cheer you on when the rest of the world ignores
What I tend to see
I don’t need to be your cleanup woman
Licking the wounds others have given you
That you choose to inflict on me
I called you friend because that was what I believed
I trusted you twice
First time shame on you
Second time shame on me

Reviews

[Mr. Deft Diction]

HA! That's how it is. Sometimes people make situations worse than they really have to be. It's that terrible affliction called comfort, aka convenience, that makes this a true poem in my book.

I like the venom in which you wrote this with. I can see you rolling your eyes and typing hard.

Keep it up!

[Emily B]

Pointed and barbed words. Great job.

[STurner]

Blistering.... damn girl! I am really glad that "friend" isn't me. Seems so hard, brutal and angry yet on the other hand it sounds like justice was done. Heavy piece, right in there; hits the gut first and then the heart and what follows can only be tears. This isn't my favorite piece of yours but the point is there... in your face, raw, naked, painnnful. The best part for me was "I never reached for anything / Only what you offered
Little morsels of your soul laced with arsenic/ I ate thinking how sweet /Never realizing that a bitter taste/
Would be left in me/ As I suffer from relational poisoning / Confined to a bed of infirmities within my soul." The visual image is strong, even profound... In typical style, you're right in there... mulling around in that heart space as dark as this poem has made it.