Centrifugal Force
I should have seen it at our chance crisscross the first night we met,
your urgent compulsion to enter every room using your rambling stride,
your braggadocio with volume on max.
Your face presenting a smile, an anthropoid sneer, humanoid, yet not as humans do.
Circling the room with what seems to be frenetic quirk,
yet actually calculated, forcing yourself central,
he to whom all others are drawn, on which all others must rely.
Your self proclaimed warmhearted misdeed, to not waste others’ time,
was merely an excuse for steely dissection.
Who will allow you to leave your evil stamp on them or theirs? More importantly, who will not?
And those who orbit, once they have tasted your acidic ways,
once the disillusionment has set in, once they have chosen to escape,
Yes! It's then you shift gears, increase gravity denser and denser.
Then your loftiest corruption is well played.
To bribe is to control, isn't that what you told your friends?
Use correctional ranking to sort your paramours?
Knowing they’ll clamor for tighter intimacy to examine
your brilliant deviltry up close, cruel and wicked, yet stunning for its planning.
You claim there's no one to blame for the list of names,
that roster of those populating your lecherous graveyard,
they with whom you have killed relationships.
No, don't bother yourself, you can leave her name on there and also add mine.
I should have seen it at our first chance crisscross,
the apparent craze like the first crack seen in pottery,
evidence that you never had it together.
How sad that ,in spite of, that woeful shatter will never touch your mind or heart.
You will remain the center of your universe, will spin on the axis of your own invention.
I will stand with cruciform candor, not clinging or grabbing on
and let your whirling, twirling self revolution, fast and energetic,
reel me away, let centrifugal force carry me and my disenchanted discontent on a new trajectory,
now all my own path, where honest conduct reigns.
