Indiscretions

I do not believe 
your acid tears 
puddling the floor 
around my feet.
Yet they dissolve me 
completely, 
leaving only 
an emotional husk 
that will, 
eventually, 
blow away 
in the slipstream 
of your indiscretions.

Sapper

I didn’t realise,
at first,
what was happening:
a slight tremor here,
a crack in the wall there.

You chipped away
at me,
working, I would assume,
to change me into an image
of something you needed.
Insecurities were fed
by incessant, and targetted,
whispered wounding words,
that shook the foundation
of who I was.

I didn’t realise,
at first,
what you had planned:
a quake here,
an explosion there.

When the charges were set,
and the plunger pressed,
something died
in the collapsing edifice,
but that something
was not me.