The Twist of Losing You

I lost you.
You threw a dagger at my heart
as you turned your back on me,
accusing me of doing the same.
Except I’m the one still standing here,
gazing at your retreating back.
Decades lost,
because I wasn’t who you wanted,
who you planned me to be.
This me who the mirror reflects back,
there is not room for her in your world.
An eternal bond severed,
where undying love was meant to be.

Others rushed to me,
a gift and blessing I had in them.
Emergency healing,
to keep this heart wound from ending me.
The blade had to stay though,
too dangerous to remove.
Wounds are strange that way.
To survive I must carry it
until the end of days.

In the agony of healing,
I am entranced by my mirror,
trying to see if I could mold me
one last time,
to be that woman for you.
I cannot.
It’s a weight I bear forever,
this permanent failure to you.
The cost of molding,
as clumsy as it was,
is a deficit I cannot pay,
with no more currency to do it again.

It’s strange, this wound,
a dagger forever in my heart.
It gives you power I did not imagine,
when pain first stole breath from my lungs,
to twist the knife again and again,
complete healing never to be done.

I’ll adapt I supposed,
as we humans are adept to do,
adapt and keep moving,
keep managing the twisting,
that will not have an end.
It’s the twist,
the twist of loving,
and the twist
of losing you.