Remember when__I threw
the bottle__of blue nail polish
at your shut__door. You said
Crazy Bitch.__Then
I’m sorry.__I’m sorry.
It was almost__beautiful,
the color__splattered
like a burst__of ocean.
I can’t tell__what you’re better at,
resentment__or forgiveness.
I don’t deserve either,__just
a word that sounds__close enough
to Love but not__exactly. Leave, or
Live.__I’m deciding
whether or not__to tell you
that the night__you drove to Gettysburg
to collect me__from the hospital
was the night__I stopped reading
my spilled blood__as a map.
The only way__home
was your red Volvo.
Photo by marc faladreau, used and adapted under CC.
