The problem we are having
Is that I am at peace with myself
Which means only
That I am at war with you
And I fight so hard
To be enough
I try to be sweet enough
Clean enough
Happy enough
Awake enough
**** enough
Forward enough
Modest enough
Reclusive enough
Home early enough
On your schedule enough
But enough is enough
You claim you are leaving
I hope you either treat me properly
Or this time you just go

I found comfort
In your being
Beside me
In a crowd
In the car
In the world
In a moment

That's why I have so many empty spaces

I was soul food for you
While you watched me starve

. . . Ouch . . .

.       let
                                  me in
  to
                                                your
        sacred spaces
                                       so
                                                         i can
    decorate
                            your
                                                  altar
           with
                                     lipstick
                                                        stains
     and
                                                   expired
                                  rose
                                         petals

             let me be your offering.