Again with the onions

it would be so much easier

if this was an onion

I would find the most razory knife

in the history of knives

slice, chop, dice

mince until

the pain liquifies

and tears release

their asphyxiating chokehold

 

it’s not an onion

it makes an onion

look like a simple

two dimensional

sunny yellow

smiley face sticker

 

it’s a whirling

dementorish

vortex of soul suck

 

the daggers of my anger

whetted on how

you disappeared me

from the ranks of humanity

clash steel on steel

clanging against your rage

fired by anguish

fueled in answers

you made up -horrendous-

to questions

you refuse to ask

 

silent battle

to psychic death

across months and miles

vaporizes –

poofed to cinders

of strangling guilt

by peripheral glimpse

across the room

 

you stand against

the wall evading

the mustard gas

of my presence

you talk to him

who you despise

spoke of in the

vilest epithets

now preferable

to acknowledging me

 

you are chewing on

the inside of your lip

unaware that you do

the tell of turmoil

you would never tell

how many times

did I ask what

was wrong?

how far did

you push me away

until I strayed?

 

set of your jaw

angle of your wrist

telegraphing epics

agonies unresolved

engulf me suffocating

amongst tornadic

self-recrimination

 

somehow I’ve learned

to live without

breathing

my breath is

back against the wall

stiffly held

 

tears torment

with mis-timing

“hi, it’s time to cry now

who cares you’re at work”

swallow and stuff

duty carries on

 

maybe I need to

buy some onions

sharpen my knives

maybe then tears

will cease their

stranglehold