Talisman VII of VIII
Wrath
You still
don’t understand.
After all of this,
you still look at us
like we are cruel
for remembering.
Like anger
is the ugliest thing
that happened here.
Funny.
You taught us anger.
You put it
in our mouths.
Packed it
behind our teeth.
Made us swallow it
until there was nowhere
left for it to go.
So no,
we don’t want
your apology.
We don’t want
your shame.
We don’t want
to hear you say
you were hurting too.
We want your mouth
full of everything
you made us swallow.
Every lie.
Every excuse.
Every name
you dragged
through the dirt.
Every night
you made someone
afraid.
We want you
to taste it.
All of it.
We want you
to choke
on the version of yourself
you kept trying
to make us believe.
You called us bitter.
Ungrateful.
Unstable.
Cruel.
Anything
except wounded.
Anything
except right.
But look at us now.
Still here.
Still speaking.
Still remembering
every version of you
you thought you buried.
And look at you.
Still asking
why everyone
is so angry.
Still waiting
for someone
to tell you
this is unfair.
No one is coming.
Do you hear us?
No one.
For once,
there is no one
left to defend you.
No one
to clean this up.
No one
to rewrite it.
Only us.
Only what you did.
Only the sound
of your own name
coming back to you
from somewhere
you still refuse
to recognize.
And God,
you are so close
to understanding.
From Seven Ways to Be Damned
by Z.C. Mayson