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.

Last Ditched Effort

The fight is better,
the encouragement is coming.
The thoughts that shouldn't
be there are running.
The weight that held
me down and back,
that fetter is lighter
and beginning to lack.
It lacks acceleration,
it lacks traction
to gain the speed
to take the action.
It can't get its footing
long enough to trip
me or my momentum
or to cause a dip.
Its lights are slowly
dimming in its twilight
as soon it will say
its final goodnight.
It is now throwing
its last ditched effort
to a spirit that won't
let it get the better.
Its hopes are done,
its goal is failed
in my soul's triumph
that to none will pale.