The Intendant

Explores how abandonment can bring release and restoration to the abandonee

The Intendant


As you, The Intendant, abandons, I can breathe.

Desperately gasping for the veracity that you could not take from me.

Your narcissistic guises are in shreds, discarded in a corner, tangled and inert.

Your nefarious acts defeated, with no chance of restitution.

I will tread, no more, the continuum of offensive charm that has disarmed and captivated.

I have shred the dulcet, sickening ambiance of you, which enfolded my every being, weighing me down.

I extinguished the gas-lighting, ignited to inhibit my reality, recapturing my certainty and clarity.

I reject the shrewd nature of your bait, refusing to dance with words or listen to hypocrisy of sufferings.

I will attend to my raw wounds, restoring self.

Meanwhile, you, The Intendant, charm offend another.