I put her on a pedestal
raised her to the throne
she could do no wrong
I thought
she deserved to be worshipped
deferred to
and made space for.
She was worthy,
but not of my overripe generosity,
genuflection
and unilateral concession.
But I blamed her
when she eventually abused her power
like all coddled rulers
and deified mortals.
I blamed her
when her chronic absenteeism
abandoned me,
when her nepotism
excluded me.
I should have read the signs
but they don’t apply
when you’re riding
a Bugatti.
I mistook shotgun
for the driver’s seat,
mistook the shotgun
for a benevolent scepter.
I thought I was exceptional,
that patterns don’t apply
to me.
Now I see
I’m just one strand
of the weave.
© S. Rinderle, October 2023
image source: Larian718 @deviantart.com
