I became so miserable
that misery became apathy.
Do you know what it's like
to have to pretend to be perfect
because imperfect wasn't enough?

I do.

The placidity of my closet
could not compare to the serrated edge of your voice,
cutting me. I wanted to-
no, tried to- surrender:
Ashes to ashes, me to dust.

The heroin(e) of death would have been a miracle.

And in this soliloquy I tell you
your vexation was irrational.
I know right from wrong
and I can describe the cacophonous chaos of life with you
as hell.

It is time to start anew.