We played house, so early on. All that grocery store
intimacy in the middle of a pharmacy. Not quite –
I watched you grab toothpaste and made sure
I grabbed breakfast bars and not just the prescription;
Allow me to reveal important pieces of myself, but
not everything. Don’t want
my melancholy
to compel an abandonment.
Yet, you still go. I can count how long you stayed with
subtraction: how many pills are left from thirty? Bottle
Not even finished. Is that why you left? The yarn in my
hands and the bracelet twisted and the earring tugged
over and over. The bleeding arm and bruised knee. Those
signs of my wrongness. Those signs
of why I’m never right.
All this from a grocery store. I wish
you had never joined me.
By Anononymous
