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I Was Thinking It Was Me

Wish I loved enough to marry.

Late in life

Or early in being

I resisted

Cajoled to marry

No one else will want you.

I don’t want to care

For two houses.

Marry me or move out.

Is that love?

So I married the,

Marry-me-or-move-out-no-one-else-will-want-you

And he beat me until I believed him

And stayed with the bruised eye I got

“playing baseball” though I never picked up a bat

But was battered instead to cruel jokes of

Women are like chicken I like mine…

He left when he sobered into a dry drunk.

Toxicity put my walls up

The next man had to crawl over.

But I was scared for 10 years

Long enough for me to be worn down

Because he didn’t want to care

For two houses

Though it was my refuge

And I agreed                                                   

And I scared him to death,

Literally.  

Now I host my thoughts

Am I the Narcissist?

Asking, do I do that

Is it me?

I never do that, I say

When he’d mention a past failed love

Still rearing its head

Is it me?

A narcissist would ask that.

Its not about you, Mom,

It’s not about YOU.

But it is if I’m trying not to repeat

Past mistakes.

Or is it my picker

That is the mistake.

Would I pick me to live with?

Would  give up the care for two houses

Just to have you lie with me

Make me feel safe

Yet doubting myself

Because I look for validation?

Am I a narcissist damaging people

In  my wake?

I’m alone

I must be doing something

Right.