Avoid the Nonchalant Man

The sheets still whisper of a terror known,

A body recoiling, utterly alone.

And you, the witness, offered air and space,

A distant pat, a nonchalant disgrace.

Two weeks I bleed this memory raw and deep,

While your weekend plans, your precious secrets keep.

Eight barren echoes, a body worn and thin,

Yet spermicide's a battle you won't win.

The phantom sickness, the tests that claw and tear,

A constant dread you simply weren't there.

My fragile vessel, battered by the years,

While your indifference fuels my rising fears.

The cat convulses, the bills a crushing weight,

My fractured finances sealing my own fate.

And you descend, a king without a crown,

Demanding feasts while tearing my world down.

Three meals a day, a host at your command,

A leeching comfort you don't understand.

"Work stress," you whine, a contract in the breeze,

While my own battles bring me to my knees.

Three hours you bled your blame into the night,

Ignoring shadows stealing all my light.

Eleven years I fought to rise and mend,

While your stagnation has no bitter end.

"No plans," you shrug, as Saturday takes flight,

A casual dismissal, dimming my own light.

A Sunday scrap, a leftover desire,

Fueling the embers of my burning fire.

"No need to ask," you state with careless ease,

Oblivious to the storm you plant in me.

So let your thumbs-up mock my rising tide,

Your hollow worries you can safely hide.

I offered you a broken, fragile soul,

And you demanded just a gaping hole.

Avoid the nonchalant man, the careless touch,

Who takes and takes and never cares too much.

Avoid the nonchalant man, whose eyes don't see

The wreckage blooming, the unraveling me.

Let him drift on his gentle, easy tide,

While you seek shores where empathy can't hide.

For in his calm, a bitter truth resides:

He'll watch you drown, and not care with the tides.