I Always Knew You Would Leave Me

 

I always knew you would leave me
And you did.
I was always afraid you’d leave me in the cold.
And you did.
Afraid you’d let your lovers kill me,
Your dragons burn me,
Your demons possess me.
And you did.

I was afraid I couldn’t trust you.
And I was right.
I was afraid you’d let me down.
And I was right.
I was afraid I’d stumble into the backstage of your theatre,
And see the costumes, and the props.
Afraid I’d see the script,
your rehearsed act.
And I was right.

Oh, false love.
Oh, mendacious smile.
The kiss with no pulse,
the touch with no warmth.
You’ll see me later,
You’ll love me later,
but oh, I know you would leave me later.
But in that, I was wrong.
For you were never really there, were you?
You’d already gone.

And this is how it is.
For I miss someone who was never there at all.
Smoke and mirrors.
Clever magic was all it was.
What is it that I can see down your sleeve?
What about the other?
You’re right.
There’s nothing there at all.
No rabbit, no magic, no love.

So I will leave now,
my front row seat.
You can have your stage,
your wig,
your pout.
And the knives that are sticking in my back?
You can have them too.
I’d throw them,
if I could.
Your burnished blades,
your lipstick stained hilts,
but there’s no target for me to hit,
no satisfaction to be had,
because you’re gone,
like I knew you would.
I should have gone too.