The problem was that your ears searched out for the sound of his voice
in a stranger’s bedroom, believing with frank naivety
that he could never find a home in anyone but you.
When I found you as a lost hair in the grips of another
man’s art,
I pretended that it was okay.
When you wrote of finding yourself as the scar on the
base of his back – I persuaded ignorance.
Pretended that your kiss was never his blood on my teeth
never scarred remains of his light swallowing itself
to shadow -
Never giving space to how with you there
was more of a question to why
his name was still on your phone like a wish list.
I persuaded myself that one can fall in love with
feeling unwanted, veining forgiveness when you
rolled atop me in your sleep and gasped his name
like some holy ghost.
me, praying to god for the first time in 3 years
that I could be with a man who was fully mine to hold.
But-
My soul, slivering itself out still moulded itself whatever shape
you think of when you think about dishonesty.
Your tongue forever a sword fight with each verb the clinks of warfare
and me, piercing the room like a fire arm proving myself
as an embodiment of violence.
Picturing myself as the destruction you seemed to admire.
(Tell me, is this enough?)
How his light in your eyes whenever you smiled turned my
liver inside out, and the chug of your apologies drowning me drunk,
but oh, let’s forget how empty I must have been to stomach it
