If I had one self-interested wish it would be

don’t be apathetic toward me

I had that my entire life

I know the smell, taste, texture, the fucking innards of apathy

don’t pretend to care

just walk away and do us both a favor

I want to matter but if I cannot

I would rather not be lied to like a bad hymn

I’d rather you told it to my face I don’t respect a God damn molecule of you

I could get behind that, I could push it out to sea and forget

I’ve become really good at burying bodies and not retracing my steps

but I can’t do it when you are passive aggressive and smile at me

like I mean something to you, when we both know I don’t

your smile like a jam tart, sweet with pungent after taste

full of rot

I tried so much, I thought by doing that, I would

succeed

whatever that means

I didn’t count on the world being so hungry

when you feed it, it keeps on eating, until it

consumes the hands that feed it

and nothing is left

not even enough money in the bank to retire

or enough in your heart to hope

and as they say

if you cannot hope and you cannot retire

you’re poor company indeed

maybe when we cannot see anymore

we begin to see in the dark

and everything that didn’t make sense

suddenly does, because shadows don’t lie

as much as bright rooms and lacquered false smiles

I hope you will see me

I hope you will see what I have done

I hope someone will save me before I drown

in my own saline, on my own salt rock island

where I am the King of the mountain and the

taste of your untruth feels like a fish bone

wedged in my throat

16 Replies to “Fish bone”

  1. Hey YOU! So good to see you here my friend. I am so happy. thank you lovely one I really, really appreciate you

  2. Hey!!! Thank you! I was sick for a long while, but doing better and back! I’ve missed reading your work. You’re definitely one of my inspirations. I hope life has been treating you as kindly as it can.

  3. Stick around, my beautiful friend . . .

    “I hope you will see me

    I hope you will see what I have done

    I hope someone will save me before I drown

    in my own saline, on my own salt rock island

    where I am the King of the mountain and the

    taste of your untruth feels like a fish bone

    wedged in my throat”

    There are those of us who care, sincerely care. And this is a gut-punch of a poem, Candice.

  4. Those who say that hate is the opposite of love are wrong. Love and hate are the sides of one coin, feeling, strong feeling, intense feeling, each, in a way, a defense against the other. The real opposite is indifference. And indifference pretending to be either of those is a damned lie and a cruelty, at best. At worst, a manipulation, a gaslighting, or an insatiable demand. [When it comes to the insatiable demands, I always think of the plant in Little Shop Of Horrors – “Feed me Seymour!”]

    But you say it much more beautifully.

  5. A sad truth. My late charismatic friend, Wolf, was loved or hated. He said that was OK, what wasn’t was to be found boring. It may not surprise you to know that I sometimes get into trouble for saying it how it is.

    May you continue seeing for some time yet.

  6. Thank you because without your friendship I would not have survived the darkest days of Gastroparesis and you are FAR more than a friend, you are family.

  7. Email me and LMK what was wrong, I am so sorry to hear that and I want to know how you are doing now. candicedaquin@gmail.com I would love to hear from you and for us to be in better touch.

  8. Well I must agree strongly. I have long thought love and hate weren’t the opposites – as you say indifference is the real killer.

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