I would rather go blind
than to see you walk off,
while the sun moulds itself
onto the contours of your back.
how dare you not say anything?
how dare you let this all build?
I've tried to turn my mountains into molehills,
tried to quiet my hurt,
tried to mute my anger,
tried to let my resentment fall off me
like spring rain to a tree.
I saw the two of you,
laughing, saw you stare at her mouth,
at the way her neck showed,
when she threw her head back.
it would be beautiful
had you not met my father.
- inspired by Etta James -
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