you stain

by Linda M. Crate

your poured your bitterness
on me, told me it were a salve
for being lonely; you must have
thought I was born yesterday
or either I was a slave to your
heart, it doesn’t truly matter
for you’re a toy I’ve outgrown —
you taught me that I was a fool
to trust you, that wishing on pennies
is untrue, that I wasted my purple
Cinderella gown on someone that
wasn’t my prince; you proved to
me that you weren’t a star just
a glimmer of hope pretending to
be one, you were the smashed mirror
of Snow White’s wicked stepmother —
trying to project your bad luck onto
me; as if it weren’t enough that you
cut me to the core with your words
sharper than the ends of jagged rocks;
I want to wash out this damned spot
from my life, but Lady Macbeth it
seems to be giving me some issues.