Your Great Triumph

Pull my tears out,
yank them by the threads
until you feel you pulled enough
and you have left me for dead.
Scream at the top of your lungs
to have the fire within me build
until it begins to consume me,
until the point has sunk into my head, is drilled.
Stand there and listen
for the cry you worked so hard for,
for the pain you pushed me
as hard as you could toward.
Stare into my eyeball
to see the moisture building
as I try to stop it,
the stream that comes, unwilling.
Turn your back on me
as you have your great triumph,
as you have me on my knees,
just what you said you want.
Take a lap for victory's sake,
the hardest worked-for victory yet,
the moment you promised yourself
that you would always get,
then finally walk away and leave me here
in my most vulnerable moment in time,
with only pain, starvation,
loneliness, and depression, all mine.