Twenty-First Mourning
In time I am sure
I will re-learn the sounds of
our quiet home. You
have not slept here for
weeks, I cannot conjure up
the courage to call.
It was my fault you
said, that last evening when
we sat on the floor
in our living room.
I assumed you to be the
naive one, didn’t
think you had in fact
seen it all. Knew everything-
the calls, what was said-
and instead of the
expected outburst of screams
broken dishes, torn
clothing, knives tearing
holes in our rented sofa
you quietly wept,
for hours. This side
of you was new to me as
the tears fell, dotting
your pressed shirt and tie.
Your eyes welled, pleaded with
why? Never again
I promised, next time
I said- I’d think of you first
I’d think of us first
I knew I was cursed
even as a teenager/
wide hipped- wild girl- bred
from a long line of
other wide hipped-wild girls- who
never thought about
how those long nights hurt
the ones who loved them most. I
tried to ignore the
burn that settled in
my core-at age twenty one
I really tried to
stay faithful. But it's
too late. You are gone. I will
find a new love like
you, who I will take
under my gentle wings and
sing my sweet song of
deception. But right
now, my soul yearns for the slow
subtle way you would
kiss me good morning.
I cannot sing just yet. Not
until I can forget
how you picked up your
suitcase from the floor, slamming
the door behind you.
I will re-learn the sounds of
our quiet home. You
have not slept here for
weeks, I cannot conjure up
the courage to call.
It was my fault you
said, that last evening when
we sat on the floor
in our living room.
I assumed you to be the
naive one, didn’t
think you had in fact
seen it all. Knew everything-
the calls, what was said-
and instead of the
expected outburst of screams
broken dishes, torn
clothing, knives tearing
holes in our rented sofa
you quietly wept,
for hours. This side
of you was new to me as
the tears fell, dotting
your pressed shirt and tie.
Your eyes welled, pleaded with
why? Never again
I promised, next time
I said- I’d think of you first
I’d think of us first
I knew I was cursed
even as a teenager/
wide hipped- wild girl- bred
from a long line of
other wide hipped-wild girls- who
never thought about
how those long nights hurt
the ones who loved them most. I
tried to ignore the
burn that settled in
my core-at age twenty one
I really tried to
stay faithful. But it's
too late. You are gone. I will
find a new love like
you, who I will take
under my gentle wings and
sing my sweet song of
deception. But right
now, my soul yearns for the slow
subtle way you would
kiss me good morning.
I cannot sing just yet. Not
until I can forget
how you picked up your
suitcase from the floor, slamming
the door behind you.