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Healing
December 12, 2017
We move,
as we call it,
Forward
carry on, coolly collectively.
Lost your temper. Lost my trust
your shirt, balled up on my floor;
your fists, balled up in my memories;
remove both.
my oath; ignore profanity
exhaust all
this is best for me,
this is best for us,
i combust
i need you,
no-
you haven’t a clue
I hear your truck,
screech on my driveway
Now; I retreat inside
My grin, once so wide
always destined to be
Jekyll and Hyde;
parallel lines
I see you,
it is Wednesday
I am okay.
© Michelle W., Ada, MI
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