Nuances.

I'm glad I wrote to you,
even if you never ended up
reading the implications
and heavy silences I was
desperately trying to fix.

You left around the time
I sent it,

and now, you're at a new job,
but in the same city.

I wonder if you remember me.

Just like I wonder if he cares
that I'm alive, that I never
died in his care

like the others.

There are times where I'm
tempted to drive downtown
to wander the developments
and sparkling city lights,

but it would be too much.

I'd see nooses in every shadow,
at every lamp post.

The burden of remembering
is the same as not knowing
where the ocean drops off,
where the waves of death
will lead me next.

And how I wish I would
have had the courage
to meet your gaze

instead of

chewing and spitting out
the truth each time it
tried to cross me.