I trip over the guilt of pitying you
as if my kindness were a bag of filthy laundry
I push back the mercy emerging
and convince myself that punishment is just

you have been punished for a reason
you are deserving thereof

yet silently
secretly
in a compartment in my chest
where I store hope for the hopeless
I keep the memory of the subtle goodness in your soul
that only I could see

but then I swallow my good nature
and shove your face out of my memory
I tell myself that I want you
to live alone
and die alone
because
“that’s what you deserve”

then I remember again
I remember what you were

I saw your eyes lighten up once
I saw them needing more
than a spinning head
and the spinning girls
and all the noise

although you do not deserve my pity
I give it to you
neither are you deserving of my good wishes
yet tem I give too

because I am the only one
who could ever see past your arrogance

I am the only one who could see
the subtle goodness in your soul