it’s that late
i get up in the dark and the quiet to be alone. and not with you
this is not your fault
i was the one who had the audacity to marry you
to try and make you fit into those shoes
i bought you shoes
and five hundred other things to try and make you happy
or to keep you at bay
away, and distracted
never realizing that these were just bandaids
that a wound was rent that day in the ancient church
and it’s been seeping ever since
it’s gushing now
and i can’t make it stop.
unless i light it on fire, cauterize it
the ashes soft beneath my feet
as i walk away.
click the heart below, if you like.