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 shirts

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.