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Healed
I’ve dispelled all your lies and promises for the future.
My life is fully on the mend and I have removed my heart's final suture.
Your voice makes me ill, and the thoughts it brings make me cringe.
Take the not-so-subtle hint that it’s over, though your pride may be singed.
Don’t call, don’t write, don’t whine or pout.
Don’t try to creep back in my life so that you can skulk about.
You’re not welcome here anymore; you’re completely uninvited.
That’s the unchangeable way it is now, so don’t even try to fight it.
Go grow up, be a man and do something worthwhile with your life.
And while you’re at it, quit blaming everyone else for self-inflicted wounds and strife.
I don’t regret the lessons learned, only the time I wasted.
And I accept my role in this mistake called us and can move on now that I’ve faced it.
As I say, I’m partly to blame; I should’ve booted you out at the first.
Instead I enabled your lunacy; let you believe your own ass to be the center of the universe.
But those days are long gone—and just to be clear—they’re never to return.
And when you ponder your own stupidity, can you feel the pain . . . does it make your insides knot and churn?
I don’t even miss you: there’s no hurt, no joy, no anger, no tears.
I’m empty of all emotion from it and what I’m purging now, I’ve wanted to do and say for years.
You’re not important to me and you don’t define my identity.
When it comes to my world these days and henceforth, you’re a complete and utter non-entity.
Your life is all on you now to make a decision: to sink or swim, fish or cut bait.
Because as for me, I’ve broken the surface and decided to drop the dead weight.
I’m neither safety net nor security blanket; I’m done with the whole charade.
I’m through with the entire thing: this account is closed, all dues paid.
I’m much happier without than I ever was with you.
Self-dedicated. Fully liberated.
Complete on my own, just me, doing all I should and can and need to do.
