There is me...lying.
Not lying like you say.
Lying on the floor, lying like I say.
Begging, weeping, asking.
You carnival figure, you.
You war hero, you.
You champion, you.
One leg propped upon my stomach.
Where are your gold stamps, your badges, your medals?
The trophy you stand on is all battered.
You have laid me out on the floor, the doormat
Withholding the welcome sign.
You roll me out, lay me flat
I will move to your command,
I will open the door when you ring.
Enter, come inside.
‘Welcome’ tastes hot and sticky on my tongue.
So I lie.
Lie like you say.
Lie down
And wait for the hunt to be over,
Play dead.
Because the only hand to help me up is yours
And when you ask me to open the door...
I will run.
I will hold, hug, have you
Asking you in smiling
Cling to your limbs,
Hoping that you will never return to the hero standing on my chest,
Thudding at my heart of glass with the soles of your heavy boots.
But you always do,
Staring me down with your steel eyes which steal my thoughts
And expose my weak subconscious,
My unspoken words which sting and bite you.
I accidentally hurt you
mouth closed every time,
hands at my side.
I know it’s my fault don’t worry darling.
Resolve your position on the podium of my corpse.
I know it was me darling.
Lying down and waiting to open the door
Because it’s only when you’re inside me that you feel at home.
I am bleeding from my stomach, my limbs, my face
But you are bleeding from your heart.
Police sirens.
I know darling.
It was me! It was me! It was me!
But there will not be an apology.