The Blame Game

You picked up a chair
And smashed our bathroom mirror
You said you couldn’t stand staring
At what we had become,
A 7 year relationship of sadness
And bad luck.

You think I like this?
You think this is what I wanted?
Call your parents, little girl,
Pack your things and go run,
But I care and I’m not the one
So easily giving up

How dare I say the word ‘care’
When I cry ‘please’ when hungry,
Know of the word love
Only when starved of sex
“Care!?”
You demand and say,
Well, that’s a word
I know nothing about!

I’m an adult
I do adult things
Like work a job that pays our bills
Why don’t you give it a try
Instead of asking more of me
Arms folded in a corner
With childish tantrums,
Screams and pouts

“Oh, my God!” you say,
“Here we go!
Somehow, someway
Everything eventually
Has to come back to be about you!
You think,” you ask,
“I’m not appreciative
Of the work that you do?”

“You make the money
But I suffer the debts!”
You shake your head and protest,
“Come home to slap and berate me.
Remember the word care?
Look how soon you forget.”

I sweep up the broken shards
From off the bathroom floor
Cut my finger and
Watch the blood run
Feeling nothing at all
From the pieces of glass
Reflecting our sharp accusations