You know, I know, I have no claim -
no claim to you, who you are, what you do
I can only claim the pain of being tame,
forced to watch from my cage.
Like a mortgage on a house I do not own,
you buy the life, I pay the loan.
Your bet leaves me in emotional debt,
shackled by standards
I never signed off for.
I’ll be forced to work my frustrations off:
they just aren’t becoming of a lady.
Not bold, nor brazen, you
were just buried instead under a mountain
of dirt.
It’s not the morality of the situation
but your complete lack of elation,
false inflation notwithstanding;
you had all the grace of a coward,
all the appeal of a second-hander -
Listen,
claim,
you are who you are or you aren’t.


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