Talisman V of VIII
Sloth
You always left
something behind.
A bill.
A lie.
A promise
you had no intention
of keeping.
A person
you hurt
and expected
someone else
to explain.
At first,
I cleaned up
because someone had to.
Covered what you owed.
Answered
the calls.
Put names back together
after you dragged them
through your mouth.
I learned
how to make your damage
look temporary.
How to say
he didn’t mean it.
he’s going through something.
give him time.
And you did.
You gave yourself
all of mine.
Every consequence
became another thing
for me to carry.
Every apology
something
I had to write
with my own hands.
You never fixed
what you broke
because you knew
I would.
I knew
where every body
was buried.
Of course I did.
You made the mess.
I dug the graves.
I covered
what you left exposed.
Learned which truths
needed dirt
thrown over them
before anyone
started asking questions.
You got to fall apart.
I got to make sure
nothing around you did.
Until one day,
I stopped.
No explanation.
No cleanup.
No excuse
waiting behind you.
And for the first time,
you had to stand
inside everything
you had left behind.
You looked around
like someone
had betrayed you.
Like the wreckage
had appeared
on its own.
Like none of it
could possibly
belong to you.
And when no one
stepped forward
to tell you otherwise,
you did what
you always did.
You straightened
your clothes.
Lifted your head.
And started telling
a better story.
From Seven Ways to Be Damned
by Z.C. Mayson