gripping

your fingers were bone white
from too tightly gripping me
and the prints you stenciled
were not a lovely decoration

there are many kinds of abuse
and yours,though metaphorical
was as smothering an experience
as a head in a sealed plastic bag

you needed to realize, love
that what you were clinging to
was actually an unrelenting need
for self validation, and sadly, I

am past the time in life
when I am willing to champion
your cause, because- in the end
you are still stuck with you

and few ever find escape from
the view of their own mind's eye
so I suggest you let the blood
flow freely again in your fingertips

and let go of the misperception
that controlling me is equal
to finding control over yourself
and watch bone white become a healthy hue