i am irked
when a mouse-click reminds me
of your existence...
moments when
i'm forced to remember
i was someone
with you
once.
i'm still forgiving myself
for allowing you--
wannabe black cousteau--
to awkwardly explore my depths,
testing my love
patience
and spirit;
for allowing you
to poison my oceans
in the name of
your self-serving
heart-healing experiments.
i proved strong
and survived;
still beautiful,
though battered.
sliced through pages
and slaughtered inkpens
to avoid murder charges
and assault accusations...
finally realizing
the best revenge
is to search within,
remain grateful
for the awareness you lack,
love myself
all the ways you couldn't,
and swim
towards warmer waters.
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