I spent years
with poor circulation
nerve ends strangled
in abject agony,
following your insanity
while blaming myself
for the way
you obeyed your rage,
but I might be getting
a little bit better.
I might be
a little less bitter.

I spent years on fire
like a burning house
seeing every optimistic
inch of me
defeated and incinerated
by your incessant nagging,
and jack slapping.
Till, I nearly choked
trying to breathe easy.
When it took
two swallows
to catch my
anxious breath,
one gulp
then halfway down
another gulp
so, I didn't drown
in my own saliva.

Now my freedom
is a bitter sweet
symphony
and though others insist,
I do not need
you to be
in my life,
do not need
the present
or even the slightest hint
of past strife
to be happy
and complete.