The Last Word on the Matter, a spoken word poem

The worst days of my life were spent in that apartment, locked up in a prison trying to run away from it, worshipping the ground you walked on, but you were hollow, giving me those icy looks so hard to swallow, refusing to touch me even when I scooted toward you, losing out on moments I just wanted you to share too. The baby was kicking, but I felt so lonely, every night I was just wishing you'd roll over here and hold me, but your brain was broken, the baby wasn't even yours, you felt like a child going through a divorce, not ready for the ring that I tried to throw you into, and the venom in my words wasn't really meant to hurt you. You ran to the bars and the women just to escape, your girl was at home but you told her to just wait, things will be better when the baby gets here, and things were better, but I never got over the fear. The silence you cradled, into the TV you stared, I handed you a plate but your appetite was never there. You were doing me wrong, behind my turned back, and when the truth came out, I lost the sanity I didn't have. No matter how you said you'd make it up as the years passed, you never did stop acting like I was a pain in your ass. I never forgave you anyway, and I should have tried harder, but in the end I wanted clarity for me and for my daughter. Maybe breaking promises is never really okay, but I still feel justified in walking away. It feels like I'm dreaming 'cause he loves the way I need, and I hope you find fulfillment out there wandering the streets.