Tea Parties and Other Bitter Things

I paint swirls on banners and marigolds on teacups,
polish the cutlery and set out the tablecloths.
Each placemat is arranged just so.
Light the candles with their warm glow.
I hang blackened dahlias from the ceiling 
to cover the bars of our cage.
Scatter petals around the room to mask our pain.
Chin up, the tea is ready to pour.
I press and primp, place 
a placard before your empty seat,
wear the same vacant smile 
you taught me as a child to keep.
Welcome to my tea party.

I made everything you’ve ever dreamed,
filled with fantasies about love and family.
Here, in our prison, there is peace.
Have a tart, I made them just for you.
Tiny bites to taste 
your dreams of traveling the world.
London, Spain, Malaysia – we’ll go everywhere.
In our tiny cage, anything is possible.

Nevermind my rage, it only creates a bitter taste.
Focus on this creme brulee,
its surface charred, 
break it into shards
In this life, you were deprived,
forced into a grating existence of sacrifice.
So let me serve you the life you should have had.
Here, a sweet pudding 
on a platter of painted silver
made of softness, of a gentle, reliable love.
The main course is yet to come.

I’m sorry, I put salt into the tea.
My love for you is marred by resentment.
But never mind it.
You were a victim of this life.
If only you hadn’t victimized me as well.
You just wanted company, I guess.
Misery loves its companions.
I understand, 
what a bitter existence to endure.
But how could you make me live it too? 

Something is boiling over,
the fire is too much.
The kettle is shrieking,
too inflamed to touch.
It’s not enough, your “love.”
Troubled minds think alike, 
and I know the recesses of your soul.
The one that holds romantic notions
of a life lived through stories and poetry.
So much so, that suffering became mandatory.
You prefer the cage to the freedom of uncertainty.
So you locked us away and hid the key.

The tales you were told, lied.
The creation of a fairy tale life
was never meant to hold such harshness.
You say every relationship needs a spark,
but yours became an inferno 
of hatred and resentment.
Cruel words and the weight 
of a mountain on your shoulders,
holding up the world with no one 
to carry you.

Your love for us is as fickle as a 
withering rose under a scorched sun.
The only fragrance is the 
stench of rotting petals.
But I shut off my senses and pretended 
to only see the flower in a mirage of its beauty.
Covered lies, swollen smiles
But I’ve come to realize,
I don’t want your false love.
I need your protection from the burning sun.

How long will you cling to a mistake 
just because you spent a long time making it?
How many more years of pain must we all endure
till the sharp grooves of trauma are etched into our souls?
Our DNA holds the same sequencing that kept you
chained and making excuses.
Are we doomed to repeat this?

I said too much, let me make it up.
The taste of lies coats my tongue
in sickly sweet molasses.
Smile wide, say we’re alright.
Turn off the lights, pretend not to cry.
I couldn’t give you the life you deserved.
The main course is ruined, blackened and bitter. 

Give me a few years, I can try again.
I’ll set the table right, 
I won’t make you cry.
Maybe I will find poetic words to describe
the shape of your pain 
the feel of this cage.
But for now,
all I have is my rage.