The people who are close to me
Comfort me by saying
"He wasn't a good person"
"You deserve more..."
But to me
It can't comfort
Because I can't conceive of how I could have mistaken love for cruelty
I believed...
I believed...
I thought I was too old for this
Too tough for that
Too experienced and tired and craven and wise
For that...
It's really the first time, isn't it?
Someone has thought you an utter waste of space.
I suppose you're lucky to be in your thirties
And still young enough to breathe
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
You can sit and sip tea on the porchswing
You can make lemonade
Squeeze the juice out over your hands and into the glass
Stir the sugar
Suck the spoon
Summer sweeps in on warm wings and douses you in twilights and strawberries and memories you thought you'd always hold tightly and close now...now...now...
You can't keep things.
You always break them.
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