we were always wrong, from the beginning, from the beginning something wasn’t right. his voice is muffled, he is standing on a cliff, i am down on the shore reading lips. it was wrong, i am not sure i ever loved you. i shake my head. night time in oakland, he pushes me out his door. the tree leaves fall, points of yellow stars droop. plus, he mentions, his hand on my shoulder - plus, you are crazy.
i nod. maybe so, i say. i don’t cry, i laugh, and my fluttery voice bumps against the sky. goodbye, i say, and i walk back to my car, measuring every step. for now it feels like releasing, but i know it’s about to hurt.
No comments:
Post a Comment