Turbulence

it pushed and pulled me around
not caring about anything at all
it had no prejudice, no feelings
it doesn't care who I am
WHO I WAS, WHO I WILL BE
it doesn't care who I kissed
WHO I MISSED, and who missed me,
 it didn't mean to hurt me, it didn't know me,
it had no intentions at all,
it just went on its way with or without my acceptance.

I wondered how I could remain so calm
as it had its violent way with my surroundings;
somehow I knew instinctively that it didn't WANT to hurt me,
and that somehow made everything better
then I realized that even if it didn't want to
it still would by sheer circumstance at will.
I compared this to you and realized there was no circumstance
well there was, and wasn't.

the way it threw me around physically
echoed your treatment of my nerve endings
but you have feelings, prejudice, intention,
you just didn't care about any of mine
and you begged me to forgive you yet in the same breathe
you claimed it was a waste of my time.

I had a seatbelt that stopped the worst of the commotion
(of course that is nothing should it have decided it would jam the turbines)
but still I had my seatbelt, a measly strap around my waist.

with you there was no strip, but the one that slowly closed around my eyes
your vulnerability slipped under my skin
and coated my defenses with your tears
I was so scared to hurt you, yet I never thought you would hurt me
famous last words indeed.

but I don't care, I don't I don't I don't
because karma's a bitch and you'll get it back tenfold.

however your pending sorrow doesn't concern or console me
in the way that I wish it did, the way it should
have been something deep I could wallow in
be able to taste it's feeling and brittle texture and rejoice
in how it must feel like shards of glass on your skin

but

I don't want to hurt you, I don't want to wound you
I'm not looking for the soft spot to plunge my verbal sword

I just want to not want to write poetry about you.