A History

 I want to call up all the ones I said I loved before

Not because now I know real love

But because now I know they were shit

And yet the shame hangs over me

When really it belongs to them

 

Did I love him who patted my head and thought he spoke better German?

Yes, carelessly

 

Did I love him who carted me around his events like annoyingly oversized (read: over the weight limit) luggage?

Yes, conveniently

 

Did I love him who confessed another love before I had dressed?

Which time and which lover?

 

Did I love him who threatened me with lions at my door?

Yes, desperately

 

Did I love him who denied me to his family like a guilty little child hides a theft?

Yes, with loneliness

 

Did I love him who destroyed me as a child?

No

 

And now with a husband

None of the above- a mostly good man

I warily eye my past

And wonder why I allowed such things

With all my intellect and strength

 

My husband complains about my carelessly discarded tampon

Taunting him with blood instead of neatly wrapped in tissue

I show no mercy, and unleash the rage

Of all the women I was before

Who tolerated far worse

 

Do I love myself now?

Perhaps.