it’ll never change
he comes in
and pats my belly
he comes in drunk
pats my belly
and raises an eyebrow
says grochalski?
like that he comes in
and he’s every other motherfucker
that has done that to me
because they felt that they could
the doctor who scolded me
for pop tarts
the friends who used cheap shots
during arguments
who still don’t know where
my hatred for them stems
the young girls and their laughter
at my unrequited crushes
he’s every motherfucker
who has done this to someone else
he comes in drunk
sets my thinking back a decade
and suddenly i’m that kid
fat and alone
and facing the noose
he comes in
and pats my belly
and i am rage unchecked
i’m breaking in my skin
yet unable to shed my mortal coil
think about breaking that hand
the one he used
on my belly
the one that patted the fat
in front of everyone
i think about breaking that hand
turning those bones to dust
then breaking his face
he comes in
he…you know the rest
he looks at me and raises an eyebrow
he laughs
because we’re such good buddies
and i think i could probably kill
this man
but i won’t
because i’m hitting forty
and this has to change
this childhood sadness
this chain that has always inhibited me
but it’ll never change
and i know that
i’m tethered to this ancient self
because he comes in
and pats my belly
he’ll come in again
or, quite frankly,
it could be someone else
like that prick at that party
years ago
the one with the pretty fiancé on his arm
who patted my belly
and raised his eyebrow
grabbed a handful of my fat
and said
yeah, you lost weight
but what does it really matter
if you’re still carrying this
around all of the time?
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