I want to say so much, but it's all insufficient as to how this poem made me feel, and your effortless ability to express yourself in such a profound way. The repetition of "I blame you" and the pain evident in your verses, that every good and bad day is affected by this person's memories. Like you keep going because of them or in remembrance. In the second to last stanza, the pull to run away, to try to defeat the sorrow, yet it keeps returning. You keep returning. One line that especially stood out to me was about it not being nostalgia or love, not even hate... and there's such a conflict in your words, like there's not even a visible bitterness or resolve in the memories, it's just there. Almost like you can't help but be tied and have this connect to this person. Like there's been no choice in it.
Incredibly thought-provoking while ending the piece with a statement, something you know to be true and that's all.
The poem already starts off with an intriguing statement - to claim that nothing's new, makes the audience think of what the poem will be about. Whether if it will be another look at feelings, relationships or something else the author has explored again. It also makes the audience think that the poet has been struggling with whatever lies in the poem for a while; they still have an innate need to spill ink onto paper, but feels trapped in a sense since they've already felt like this before.
I love the imagery of 'coating you with words again', testimony to the poet's imagination. Likening the exploration of a relationship and/or a fainting memory to art - this ties back in with what I mentioned earlier; the poet still has an innate need to spill ink onto paper with what's brewing within them. I was left with the strong imagery of an artist loading a paintbrush with dark, heavy colours with the first three verses. This whole stanza beautifully encapsulates what it is to make art from pain - scattering glitter near tears (tears are synonymous with pain, yet the poet thinks they would be best shadowed by glitter, and casting resin into wounds to either cover the wounds, so that the poet can feel whole as if no part of them is missing or scarred in any sense, or to use the wounds as mold, let it cure and pull to see what comes of it. They both are strong options. The ending verse in the first stanza ('Stiff & elegant, let it be.') lends credence to both options.
The repetition of blame just oozes hurt, it also reads like something out of a Neruda poem :) The reader comes away with an understanding of how intertwined the poet and the subject of the poem is, for better or for worse. 'Streets crash, bridges fall, skies perish/yet all that you've inflicted on me strives to stay/to no avail.' this verse stuck with me. The ending was perfect too, tying everything up neatly with a bow, reinforcing the poet's blame of the subject. I hope you don't mind this comment, this poem is personal and I almost didn't want to come back to comment because of it. You're an excellent poet, and I always love reading your work. I hope this piece brought you some solace while writing it. :)