by Joani Reese
Like sinews stretched until they snap,
I finally reach that no return.
I banish man-child from my home,
and toss his troubles to the curb
as rage cements his fisted heart
that once fluttered beneath my own.
A hardened man, he won't admit
rash choices formed his bitter mien,
and if he ever loved someone,
his mirrored body sat that throne.
I finally extract my life,
aware he'll never own his fate;
forward, fall alone,
his troubles blamed on everyone.
How strange to think, innocent, young,
he was my laughing, blue-eyed son.
Each angry man leaps from a boy
tempered by existential harm.
Embracing hate, his ire thrums,
this one who never caught the ring,
nor sang a song, nor loved someone.
A frightened boy dwells in this man
who claims he can control the storm;
he'll realize, but far too late,
he's just another wind-tossed pawn.
Drug ravaged, drunken, stumbling on,
a sunken wraith, an eidolon,
his threnody's a sorrow song,
a dirge lamenting damage done.
All kindness gone, he's flown apart,
a puzzle piece lost in the dark.
I stand detached and mustn't grieve
his leaving or lie to the truth.
I have no time for a fresh start,
prepare for years missing that heart
that once beat softly, safe
beneath my own.