We Pawns
by Sheila Mullan
So what gives you
the right?
Am I such a burden now?
To you, I guess I was just a bug on a pin.
A specimen for all your friends to examine
And exclaim "ooh" and "ah"
While looking at you enviously.
What gives you the
right
To toy with my feelings, you fool?
Do you know, I really loved you?
I doubt you care -- not even
In the deepest corner of your heart.
Heart? Heart? Do you
have a heart?
Or is it just a piece of data processing?
A little microfiche stamped "heart."
A miniaturized computer with tabs
That say "motives" and "drives."
You will never know
how happy I was with you.
Did you ever guess that one night
I actually pinched my knee
Because I couldn't believe that it was you
Sitting across the table from me!
And that's not like
me, either;
Usually, emotions are broken down
Into little components with "reason" and "judgment"
Imprinted on them.
But for this once,
I decided
To dispense with the analysis of emotions.
Just experience them, maybe it will be better.
After all, emotions are not concrete.
For this, I was dealt
a blow.
No return, only your greed.
Blind at the time, I fulfilled your need.
I guess I was just a pawn.
Well, we pawns have
feelings too.
And believe me, it won't happen again.
Thanks for the scar on my heart
Which will prevent me from ever
Experiencing love as with you.
You took what you
wanted and left me in the street to die;
And I did die, a thousand times,
As a friend joked that maybe
You'd given my bracelet to another girl.
That hurt! So bad, like a knife
Reopening a wound. My bracelet;
Why couldn't you have given it back, only two blocks away?
It won't fit you. It's made for a tiny wrist -- like mine.