Chapter Eighty-Three: Momma #3

*Years Ago*

You welcomed Us to the "Family,"
weren't We just "Lucky?"
Part of another "team,"
was it like that,
or was it more than it seemed?

Days turned to months and months into years,
what was happening near?
Were we missing something?

Fast forward to last month--
that's what it seemed.

*Months Ago*

I panicked and I was hurting,
needed to vent,
no outlet lurking,
just your office filled with quiet,
except for your usual YouTube politics--

Steady noise,
need I bother you?
Just for kicks?
Damn the Boys,
it was me who was sick.

Crying in front of you,
how pathetic,
was supposed to be the strong one,
somehow you were my anesthetic.

I told you my secrets,
shared a lot--
I say too much when I'm drunk,
guess that's something you and I had in common,
my heart sunk.

Damn the Phenomenon.

*Fast Forward To Our Last Talk*

Why did you call?
Why did you reach out?
My brain was sober,
but my heart covered in clout.

Once I heard your voice,
there was no doubt,
I've seen this story play out,
many a times before.

Was it easy for me to want to be honest?
Yet be hurtful?
Was it your constant truth bombs that sealed a promise?

I hated how easy it felt to fall for your trap,
to trust your story and words.

It felt surreal when I hung up,
no amount of booze would ever erase
that which felt made-up.

Why wait until now to destroy me?
Did it feel good to open up to see?
Well don't forget--
being an asshole comes in threes.

One felt something,
one saw more,
eventually every rose,
shows its Thorre.

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