I knew when I met those bright blue eyes
that I was gonna somehow dim them
I just didn’t know how yet

She’s had this boyfriend since freshman year
But I’ve always found pleasure in taking what’s not mine
So that’s what I did
I took her—I took everything from her

I’ll never forget the first time I saw those pretty blue eyes brimmin with tears
Ever since then I’ve been hell bound on seein those tears fall
And she’s been whiskey bent on bein a good woman
I don’t think it’s possible though
For her to be a good woman
At least not in my eyes
She keeps tellin me she just wants to build a home with me and I think shes right cuz
I’ve never felt so at home like I do when I hear the emptiness in her voice
She echoes back I love you because she **** well knows better
Women were meant to be controlled
My father taught me that
So just when she thinks she's starting to build herself up
I tear her back down
its been years since she said she was gonna leave me but every time she gets that look in her eye like she thinks she’s strong enough to leave me
I haveta remind her I’m stronger
I gotta say taking all these pieces of her
It makes me feel whole
There was that one time in the beginning she popped her hip and said "boy you better be lucky you have me"
I told her she better be careful how she talks to me
But she just laughed like I was joking or something
She doesn’t really laugh anymore
Well
Unless we’re out for dinner and friends are around

I remember her telling me she wanted to take on the world
Crazy girl go doin that and I haveta show her who’s boss
I think her blue eyes faded years ago

I love my family.
But I hate spending time with them.

My grandma babbles about the "good ol' days",
an aunt stirs her tea.

The cousins are running wild "Who's watching them?"
Right, me.

My mother brags about her eldest daughter
and all her achievements;

I actually don't exist.

My uncle barks a drunken epithet,
hands slam on the table
laughter shakes shoulders.

Talk of kindergarten politics is touched upon.
The gays? They exist.
The poor? They're, well, poor.
The coloreds? Are they still here?

Dice are tossed,
feet shuffle under the table.

The dog yaps for scraps.

Uncle goes outside with a cigarette
takes a puff.

Auntie doesn't wanna go to bed,
says "a slavelord woulda haveta whip me to get me off this chair."

I decide I've had enough.

I get up for another drink.

I love my family.
But I hate spending time with them.