It was selfish of her
To leave.
She needed the change;
Had to move,
Having been stuck so long
She felt suppressed,
And so depressed.
She just needed to leave,
But where could she start?

He was easiest to leave,
The most convenient to cut off;
He didn't hold on,
He didn't even try.
She didn't know,
Was she angry
That it was easy for her to leave?
Or that he didn't even try to stop it?

But she had to leave,
The reasons didn't matter,
The semantics were moot,
Whether he wanted her to,
Or he didn't--
Whether she wanted to,
Or she didn't want him to let her;
Nothing mattered.

It was truly selfish of her
To leave.
She had to fly
And he made it easy for her
To leave him behind...

envy grows
a curious thing
no rhyme or reason
just a sting
of leaf green
to destroy the envy
the lust
the greed
you seek acceptance
you want
no, you need
to be released from the prison
of spiky green
a prison that grows and grows with each passing hour,
but could be cut down with only a flower
growing inside the carefully tended walls
a flower called ego
this bud
once uncovered
can bloom
and break the envy walls
so that for today
they won't bother you at all
but care for the flower
today tomorrow
the next
so that envy doesn't reach out again
and re-trap you in a web
of tangled mean

you were the type of girl to read Ayn Rand
thinking o what good ideas in this Fountain
I was the type of who'd join a tontine
and play Russian roulette with self
till dead from cop killer bullet to head
or encourage co-conspirators
bury me 6 feet deep

you decried what joy there is in order
I cried out swollen summer sadness
what joy (is there at any joy at all)
in this madness

pointing out the chaos of everything
order in chaos is wishful thinking
for apes liking everything in neat little
wax paper wrapped deli packages

your satisfaction is my dismay
yet I cannot look away
wash me clean after
I sully you suddenly with
sickly sullen pallid mess