three and a half, and both of us
makes three still,
as three equals you
and me
there is no aftermath,
no argument that outnumbers
the million insults of you,
or the billion ways I tried
to leave you
the three, always between
the you and me
a barrier that leaves us
with nothing left
but bleak misconceive
at last,
I’ve learned how to run
from the pain
you caused me
and where there once was three
I just got me
[poem dedicated to Mister S., @Cuntra, December 2011]
Photo Copyright Julia Melcher