A Lasting Legacy

Maybe I can say that my snappish ways are bitchy
because I was abused as a child, that I wasn’t taught

how to be pleasant, that I have an abiding depression
which leaves me impatient and growly.

Maybe it’s the stage of life I reside in—that time
of the month or stress from my all-encompassing job.

Maybe you can say we are such different people,
how could we coincide in the same household

without friction, that we are too similar
and step on each other’s toes, or too sensitive—
bruised by the smallest insinuation.

After all the history and histrionics, all the years
with tears and tantrums, prickliness is the only thing

keeping us together, it’s long-lasting, thorned, irritation
has the ever-present audacity to continue spiking

sharp barbs, bitter bristles between us, long after the thorns
of bitter battles have dulled and left the battlefield
torn and bloodied—

even after we have both called it quits.

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Image credit: The 1964 Pablo Picasso painting of a distorted blue face called “Untitled”