So You Have Nothing to Give

by Les

Why should I be angry? Don’t some of us
harbor a hole, so that nothing you put in
is ever enough? I’m not sure I like this analogy,
as if character had mass. Why else should I feel
like a sandbag gouged by a knife, leaving a trail of dust
to the corner where you will find my body?
Some relationships resist motion, swinging back
with the force of futility. Unless exercise in it
is what I wanted, surely anything is more bearable
than this heavy swinging, time’s arc pacing blows.
Shit happens, you said, it’s nobody’s fault.
Why should I disagree, unless I myself
had expected to be filled?