Victim, victim

Entirely unsure of who you are

You waste away onto me

Like masses of brown mush that,

Barely passing for snow,

Seep slowly, slowly

Into the pavement of 

City streets.

Your advances are

Indecisive,

Inconsistent,

Inept.

You are piled high.

A crushing burden on my stability.

Hoping that my gusto can hide you from

The Great Indecision.

That festers within you.

That defines you.

Do you see me as a beacon of hope?

Some entirely constructed figure of

All that is sublime?

You are so trapped within the confines of

Your psyche.

You, you, you.

It is like the words that fall from my mouth

Rocket toward the ground,

Never reaching you

Yet you say you love me for them.

All that you are is a crudely constructed form.

Call it developing.

Call it failed.

Call it what you will.

All that you are is a jigsaw puzzle

 That should’ve been recalled.

I won’t attempt to analyze the pieces gone.

It is not my job to put you together

Searching tirelessly for parts that will never

Ever, ever

Be revealed.

You claim otherwise.

I say,

I’m done.

You say,

Dot dot dot.

So, you. 

So, me.

So it was.

So it will be.

Qué será, será