the weight of a bad hand

The corner of your lip is set in a

frown

that shakes the world.

 

How could the beautiful be so

sad

and left behind,

and what type of world is this?

 

There is no justice

and any talk of karma or

a justifying force is laughable

or downright idiotic.

 

Sadness and loneliness will

rape

and pillage the

dreams and ambitions of even the

most noble and purest

and it is up to us to respond.

 

It was more in your eyes than

your beautiful lips,

that sadness,

the pervasive,

indifferent

sadness.

 

Life had dealt you the same hand

as me

and we both felt the weight of it

bearing down like hard chains

tugging

at our soft flesh and bones.

love like justice

Blame it on me,

you know I can take it,

blame it on your family and

the hand you were dealt

and the way you don't give a 

fuck

about anything.

 

Blame it on the way you have no roots

and don't know what it's like to belong

or how you pretend philanthropy is in your 

selfish bones.

 

Blame it on me,

and the way I cared,

still care,

and the way I always get back up from

every lie and let down

and you pretend not to notice

or feign ignorance.

 

Really,

blame it on me,

and make it sound like I made the first

move and the first mistake,

and any other firsts you want to put on me.

 

Put it on me, baby,

you know I can take it.

 

Blame it on the way you live in secret

with texts and accidental phone calls

and act none the wiser

because I can take it.

 

Blame it on the way I shut down

shut you out

buckled down and made myself

stronger

faster

void of the outside emotion endemic in man.

 

Blame it on anything but yourself

blame it on the little green armymen,

or the real armymen,

they can take it.

 

I will pretend to sleep it off,

work it out,

walk it off.

 

I can do those things and more,

ut justice isn't the only thing that's blind.