Joker’s Prelude
A Poetic Monologue by Jazmyn Aurice-Marie
It’s been a week since you abruptly ended things.
That’s the polite way of saying you stabbed me through the heart, smiling, behind that Joker mask you love so much.
But for the first time in all the years I’ve known you, I finally see you clearly.
It’s funny that you went from one artist to another.
Answer me this though.
How do you look at her paintings and my poetry, analyze every brushstroke, every word, and still fail to understand the message?
Is your heart that cold?
Is your mind that twisted, Joker?
You convince yourself you’re right, yet you could look at me battered and bruised and somehow believe the way to heal me was through your touch.
Even the Joker had morals, to some odd degree.
Or did you really want me to become your Harley, losing myself so I could lose myself in you?
What kind of empty pit would that have led me to?
An abyss almost as vacant as the shell you call a soul.
From DM to DM.
Text to text.
Bed to bed.
Have you ever stopped to watch a real sunset?
Or do you always need to be between someone’s legs to feel alive?
Did my tears help cultivate yours as you ran off to her?
Comforting her through the ghosts of her past and the ache in her heart.
To do what exactly?
I’m not here to tell you how to grieve or how to heal.
But I want to know…
How many nights will it take of taking from her, or her, or her before you decide to simply take in the moon?
Maybe I’ll think of you when I hear a song on the radio.
When one of our songs comes on my playlist.
When I watch a plane take off and remember how excited I was just to get back to you, while you were excited by meaningless validation.
How many days…
How many minutes…
How many seconds…
Before you recognize you’re the star of your own circus… but now the only audience left is you.
The mask slipped today.
The fog lifted.
As I smiled into the sunlight, I remembered exactly who I am.
Even through my tears, I can still smile beneath a golden sunset.
And when I stop to admire the stars, it isn’t to manipulate someone into believing we’ve found a soul bond.
It isn’t to manufacture a connection.
It’s because they’re beautiful all on their own.
So am I.
Here.
Now.
It’s because sometimes simply existing is enough.
You could have had that life with me.
Hot chocolate or coffee every morning.
Whatever you preferred.
Endless back rubs.
Foot rubs.
Sweet notes tucked into your lunch.
Sweet notes tucked into our children’s lunchboxes.
Passionate kisses on our porch while we watched the sun disappear behind the land we built together.
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But fantasy is your playground.
So you put the mask back on.
Tell me, Joker.
When will you finally stop long enough to see yourself?
The little boy who let the world dim his light.
The man who now repays that pain by dimming the light of those who truly love him.
How many times do you have to study her painting, tracing every brushstroke, pretending you can feel the heart that created it?
How many nights will you sit beside someone getting high while reaching for your vape, convincing yourself you’ve found connection?
I would have saved you from all of it.
A love that would’ve gotten you so high you’d never need another vice.
A best friend.
A playmate.
A home.
Because I am as real as they come.
Is that why you ran, Joker?
Because you needed a Harley more than you wanted something real?
Not the aesthetic.
Let’s be clear.
It doesn’t matter how many tattoos are painted on.
It doesn’t matter how many late-night conversations you have.
Why did you need my light to survive the darkness in your own mind, no matter how long the sun had already been shining?
Today the mask slipped.
The fog lifted.
And still…
I prayed for you.
I cried for you.
I even caught myself thinking about doing something kind for you.
Then I remembered something.
I may have been one of one.
But to you, I was only one of many.
Just like her.
And her.
And her.
The heartbreaking part, Joker, is that there are so many of you.
Your uniqueness was stitched together from borrowed pieces, while mine came from the very heart you were so eager to leave behind.
That’s when I saw you.
Not your potential.
Not the future I imagined.
You.
I knew you when you drove that car with the worn-down steering wheel, smiling at me as you slowly followed beside me on my walk home after a day that was ours.
I prayed over you when you needed shelter.
I loved you when you were still back on base and overseas, because time and space never mattered to me.
I didn’t care where life placed you.
I only wanted to be wherever you were.
I stood beside you through all of it.
I knew something was wrong when you took the love from my sweet letter, something meant to hold you gently, and turned it into something meant to wound another.
I still wonder why, Joker.
But today…
The mask slipped.
And for the first time, I saw you.
More importantly…
I saw myself, too.
And I realized I was never meant to be your Harley.
Because I am not chaos.
I am not a mask.
I am love.
