The Last Stratagem of Disappointment (Eliza's Monologue)

The Last Stratagem of Disappointment (Eliza’s Monologue)

There was a weed that could not be plucked;

And I thought I did it

I thought the roots finally gave

I took the hole that remained

As reassurance, It was over,

I won

But out of that hole something with legs and arms crawled out

In the sun now,

With proper air,

Its size began to double,

Triplify

Our land was rotted regardless,

What choice did I have?

Mom, if I had to watch you die once more,

This time for real,

This time without the help of

Auntie's prescriptions and Dad's hand,

This time with the help of proper drugs and proper needles

And a proper man with a doctorate;

I would have probably,

Properly

Died

So I found you

(I already found him

But he is too far away)

And to be quite truthful

I have become quite cynical

And I doubt the universe

Could hold another being

That has managed to fail me,

Even if omnipotent

And Andrew I am talking to you

If you are man enough to f**k me you're

Man enough to leave her too

So here, my MESSY MESSIAH,

I came on a promise

And you managed to make me feel special

For a little while,

You managed to make me feel safe.

Until I woke up and realized you were it

The last stratagem of disappointment

The handsome actor of this long, generational satire

You were the being I thought never existed,

Couldn't ever exist, because who else could fail me?

But you've always existed

In the light of the morning,

After I opened the curtain with my infant hands

And I looked at you with my newly born eyes

I saw the many-armed beast

You had grown all over my bed,

Jaws smacking and a tongue rooting a wet snout.

There were a thousand weeds growing out of your back,

All forming a circle, an ulcer in the middle, no blood, no dirt, just darkness

Finally, you opened your mouth

And with half a set of teeth and one lip you uttered:

"Woman, you are my favorite"

Elle breaks from her recital -

Was that what you wanted to hear?

SILENCE

Author's Note

painting van gough, "wheatfield with crows"