Are we gonna talk about it?
Our shared trauma?
Or rather, your trauma that has overflowed
like blood I’m forced to handle
hell, I never asked for this
so are we gonna discuss how fucked up it is
or are you gonna run away again
like a coward calling himself a man
like an avoidant spectre of unsaid things
I have been doing your emotional labour for six months
I have been giving you too much
I have been overlooking every red flag
out of a longing that it was easy to love you
But baby I’ve been doing my taxes
& it’s come to my attention that in terms of
emotional stability
this is not an economically viable situation
You’ve gotta pay me if you want me to be your therapist
& honey you need that shit
there’s clearly something a little twisted
in your perception of femininity
You say you don’t exhibit misogyny
but blame women for all your bad takes
it wasn’t his girlfriend ruining your best mate
it was him & his narcissism
But I never took you for insecure
I took you for a Leo with an inflated ego
maybe that’s why you’re projecting
maybe that’s why there are some things
on which you struggle to self-reflect
& I don’t know how to say these things to your face
cos you’ve gone ghost on me again
can you dump people in your head
or is that just pussy bullshit
I have become more comfortable with confrontation
but you don’t give me the chance
& that’s why you & I will never last
that’s why I will have a perpetually breaking heart
if I keep it yours
I wish my heart was yours
it has your name on it like I’m a
child with too many crayons
it wants to be yours but it’s not
It can’t be
cos I love myself too much to keep it
in these masochistic cycles of
unbalanced one-sided fantasy relationships
is this twin-flame shit or delusion &
can two truths coexist
I wish you had a heart that was open not
hidden behind a hundred walls &
I wish it was mine
but you have only ever loved yourself
& can I blame you for being one-track minded
are we not the same in so many ways
was I not one-track minded
a little too monogamous in my wanting of you
Maybe I love who you could be
& not who you are
& I wish the two things were a
little less far apart
but I can’t keep tryna pull them closer together
cos whether or not I want to know it
it’s not my job to fix you
it’s not my job to undo whatever it is that’s been done
It’s only my job to love
so I will do so from far away where
it doesn’t cause me so much pain
& maybe you will watch
wondering
why my eyes are so soft
behind the unanticipated absence
of tears.
Devon Webb is a 25-year-old writer based in Aotearoa New Zealand. She writes full-time, exploring themes of femininity, youth & neurodivergence. She shares her poetry online, through live performance, & has been widely published both locally & internationally. She is the two-time Wellington Slam Poetry Champion & is currently working on the final edits of her debut novel, The Acid Mile. Her work can be found on Instagram, Twitter & TikTok at @devonwebbnz.
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