Member-only story
Melancholy Meanderings
(from the woman you called a c*nt)
Hallmark movie memories slipped through your fingers, the ones you so arrogantly thought reflected us, picture perfect, no matter how loud I begged you to stop, to say,
That I wasn’t a typical love interest,
That I’m messy and I don't care for beginnings and endings when the in between is far more fascinating.
That I wanted so much more than a Hallmark movie.
That was my tragic flaw.
You certainly swept me off my feet,
Playing the hero entering from stage left,
Lovely and soft and then rejecting me the moment I sighed and sank into you.
I’d scream, trying to fix us, only for my words to be forced back into me, another scar to count as I choked.
So I stopped screaming.
I spun your straw into [fool’s] gold.
I kept the image of a dollhouse,
I covered the shattered glass and mopped spilled red wine.
I held myself together with your scent, the rare tender words, telling myself it was enough.
But the image grew harder to hold together,
With pieces dropping faster than I could gather them.
And I…
