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A-to-Z Zodiac Woman
Today I have to acknowledge, and be thankful for,
Our bondage as siblings of a sort,
Your obligation,
and my seemingly endless love
Lingering on that love,
let me elaborate.
It sprung from the ground clean and
pure, filling you with life,
and nourishing your soul.
However, I required to
be desired, as many of
those who I admire can agree,
rather than loving me you just looked
Skyward, as unconditional love
wasn't your "style"
so you destroyed my natural burble
and defiled me
And replaced me
with an artesian well - mechanical hell -
and I
pumped out love.
You did not fuel, you dried
your were the shining sun,
deadly attractive, and
without you replenishing
my internal mechanisms, I
slowly broke.
Gears ground, as springs
snapped upwards, hitting
essential nuts and bolts
symbolically I stopped, halted.
But without
every
single
endlessly painful piece of that
I would not have been able to
salvage the best parts of
myself.
Now, I am not flawless
but neither am I heartless
and I still thank you for your
flawed, heartless, recklessness.
Without your plundering
I would not know
who truly loves me.
I would be melancholic,
without your "pestiferous ignorance",
more of doormat, than
who I am proud to look at
in the mirror, standing at bat,
as a future Diplomat, Democrat
Alley Cat, Almanac, Artifact
A-to-Z Zodiac woman
who, on behalf of humankind
will start her own
Coup d'etat and attack.
I can promise I will be more famous
than Robert Frost, keeping
up with me will be
exhausting as I
calculate marginal
cost and Guess What?
You lost.
So find someone else to
leech off, I am
Thankful that
you were able to
teach me, because now
I preach, that
I
am most enamored by,
watching myself learn to fly
ready to strike out on my own
Neither sticks nor stones
will break my bones.
Sticks being your indifference,
stones having been my pesky ignorance,
but no, I will not be your Icarus
for, I am most thankful
to be my own deliverance

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Revised version of my original poem, about the self realization at the end of a long but bitterly ended friendship. Writing it was more of a therapeutic experience, and then it blossomed into something better.